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WHERE OUR HISTORY 
WAS MADE 


BY 

JOHN T. FARIS 

ii 

AUTHOR OF “ HISTORIC SHRINES OF AMERICA,” 
“ON THE TRAIL OF THE PIONEERS,” ETC. 


BOOK ONE 



SILVER, BURDETT AND COMPANY 

NEW YORK NEWARK BOSTON CHICAGO 



Copyright, 1923, by 

SILVER, BURDETT AND COMPANY 




SEP 18 ?3 


©C1A711930 



PREFACE 


“Did it really happen?” The time comes when 
the real boy or girl is almost sure to ask this question 
about any story that is heard. Fairy stories no longer 
satisfy them; they want the note of reality. So 
teachers and parents have learned to expect the ques¬ 
tion, and to prepare to answer it. 

“Where did it happen?” is the next question. 
What boy or girl would not like to go to Lexington, 
Concord, Washington, or any other place made fa¬ 
mous by its association with our history, that he or she 
might be thrilled by being on such hallowed ground 
and by living in imagination the moving events that 
really occurred there ? 

But it is not always possible to go to the places where 
these stirring events happened. The next best thing 
is to tell the stories in connection with definite localities 
so that the readers may feel as if they really were there. 

It is the purpose of the two volumes of Where Our 
History Was Made to anticipate the queries of boys 
and girls who are becoming alive to the fact that the 
history of their country is not a mere record of the 
past, but a vivid picture of the men and women who 
made our history, what they did, how they did it, 
where they did it, and how the things done concern 
those who read of them today. It is hoped, too, that 
these stories may inspire boys and girls with that spirit 
of devotion to their country and with that venera¬ 
tion for the heroes and patriots who have contributed 
iii 


IV 


PREFACE 


to the upbuilding of the nation without which history 
fails of its highest purpose. 

So, for this reason, famous people and events, as 
well as people who are not so well known — though 
they deserve to be more than locally noted — leaders 
who established homes in the wilderness and others 
who fought for freedom, have found a place in these 
pages. 

Readers of the stories in the two volumes will be 
able to say with satisfaction, “That happened in my 
state”; for the tales of people and places have to do 
with nearly every state in the Union. But it is the real 
purpose to present all the chapters in such a way that 
readers will have the higher thought, “That happened 
in my country! That man helped to make the liberty 
I enjoy! That monument tells of a heroic struggle of 
which I am reaping the fruits! That wonderland is 
in my America , and some day I am to go there, and 
then I can tell of it to some one who has never seen it.” 

In choosing the topics to be included, the effort 
has been made to supply material that not only will 
illuminate many aspects of American history but also 
will create in the boys and girls an appetite for side 
lights on history that will pave the way for the later 
independent investigation that gives life to all study. 

Grateful acknowledgment is made to all the various 
state historical societies, local historical associations, 
chapters of the Daughters of the Revolution, and col¬ 
lege officials who have given valuable criticism and 
suggestions in the preparation of the manuscript. 

John T. Faris 


The author and publishers make grateful acknowledgment 
to the following who have furnished illustrations: 

Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fe Railroad for Acoma Indian Pueblo, west 
of Albuquerque, New Mexico, and for Governor’s Palace, Santa Fe, New 
Mexico 

Bucks County Historical Society for the Indian Walk Monument, Wrights- 
town, Pennsylvania 

A. S. Burbank for Peregrine White’s Cradle, Plymouth; Plymouth Rock 
in Its New Location; Myles Standish Monument, Duxbury; and Statue of 
Massasoit, Plymouth 

Bureau of American Ethnology, Smithsonian Institution, for Cahokia 
Mound, Illinois; An Old Indian Trail; El Morro National Monument, 
New Mexico; and Indian in Full Head Dress 

H. P. Cook for Shirley on the James River, Virginia; Gunston Hall, 
Virginia; St. John’s Church, Richmond, Virginia; and Old Church Tower, 
Jamestown, Virginia 

Denver and Rio Grande Railroad for Cliff Palace, Mesa Verde National 
Park, Colorado 

Detroit Historical Society for “Cadillac’s Village” : Detroit in 1701 
Great Lakes Transit Corporation for Fort Michilimackinac, Michigan 
Harvard University Corporation for Massachusetts Hall, Harvard Univer¬ 
sity 

Illinois Historical Society for the Magazine at Old Fort Chartres, Illinois, 
and On the Site of Fort Massac on the Ohio River 

Massachusetts Historical Society for Boston Common in i860 
National Park Service for Petrified Forest National Monument, Arizona 
Ohio Historical Society for Monument to the Massacred Indians at 
Gnadenhiitten, Ohio 

F. H. Parkhurst for The Wyoming Massacre Monument, Wyoming, 
Pennsylvania 

Pennsylvania Department of Forestry for An Old Toll Gate House on 
a Pioneer State Road 

Pensacola Chamber of Commerce for Interior of Fort San Carlos, Pensa¬ 
cola, Florida 

Fred. Perry Powers for an Old Swedish Block House at Naaman’s Creek, 
Delaware 

William H. Rau for Home of David Rittenhouse near Philadelphia 
St. Augustine Historical Society for Ancient Watch Tower, St. Augustine, 
Florida 

V. K. Stubbs for Boundary Stone on Mason and Dixon’s Line 
United States Forest Service for Georgia as Oglethorpe Found It 
Philip B. Wallace for Graeme Hall, near Philadelphia, Pennsylvania; 
the Letitia Penn House, Philadelphia; The Rittenhouse Home, near Phila¬ 
delphia; Palladian Window at “The Woodlands,” Philadelphia; Car¬ 
penters’ Hall, Philadelphia; Independence Hall, Philadelphia; Craigie 
House, Cambridge, Massachusetts; The Old Pump at Cliveden, Philadel¬ 
phia ; and A Revolutionary Interior 

Yale University for On the Campus, Yale University, New Haven, Con • 
necticut 


v 























CONTENTS 


CHAPTER I. RELICS OF LONG AGO 

1. The Mysterious Cahokia Mound, Illinois . 

2. The Great Mound at Moundsville, West Virginia 

3. America’s Earliest Road-Makers 

4. The Cliff Dwellings of the Southwest 

5. The Pueblo Dwellers of New Mexico 

6. The Petrified Forests of Arizona 

7. Inscription Rock, New Mexico .... 

8. At Natural Bridge, Virginia .... 


CHAPTER II. IN THE DAYS OF COLONY BUILDING . . 28 

9. Early Jamestown, Virginia.28 

10. On Virginia’s Eastern Shore.31 

11. The Blue Laws of Old Virginia.34 

12. Plymouth and Province town, Massachusetts . . . .37 

13. In the Wake of the Pilgrims.44 

14. The Wreck of the Sparrowhawk . 47 

15. An Early Picture of the Indians of New England ... 49 

16. On Boston Common ......... 53 

17. Mount Desert, Maine.59 

18. Providence, Rhode Island, and the First Church ... 62 

19. In Historic Rhode Island ........ 65 

. 20. Relics of the Past in New Castle, Delaware .... 69 

21. Where the Swedes Built a Blockhouse in Delaware . . .71 

22. The Walking Purchase in Pennsylvania ..... 74 

23. In Philadelphia, in the Days of the King . . . . . 77 

24. * America’s First Paper and Paper Mills.80 

25. Pioneer Traveling in America.84 

26. The Story of Mason and Dixon’s Line.87 

27. The Making of Winston-Salem, North Carolina ... 91 

28. Two Memorials in Savannah, Georgia.94 

29. Frederica, on St. Simon’s Island, Georgia.98 

30. The Romance of Ebenezer, Georgia.102 

31. Coweta, Alabama, Where the Power of France Was Checked . 106 

vii 


PAGE 

1 

1 

4 

7 

10 

13 

17 

20 

24 








CONTENTS 


viii 

PAGE 


CHAPTER III. GLIMPSES OF FRANCE AND SPAIN IN 

AMERICA. 110 

32. Old Fort Marion, St. Augustine, Florida.no 

33. Fort San Carlos de Barrancas, Pensacola, Florida . . • 114 

34. Early Days in Santa F6, New Mexico . . . . .117 

35. Crown Point and Fort Ticonderoga, New York . . . 121 

36. Ancient Fort Niagara, New York.125 

37. The Story of Michilimackinac, Michigan.130 

38. The Early Days of Detroit, Michigan.135 

39. Starved Rock on the Illinois River'.138 

40. Old Fort Chartres on the Mississippi River .... 142 

41. Fort Massac on the Ohio River.145 

42. The Massacre of the French, at Natchez, Mississippi . . 148 

43. The Romance of New Orleans, Louisiana.152 

44. Mobile, Alabama, in Early Days.155 

45. The Blockhouse at Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania . . . . 159 

CHAPTER IV. STORIES OF EDUCATIONAL BEGINNINGS 164 

46. Harvard University, Cambridge, Massachusetts . . .164 

47. The Beginnings of Yale University, New Haven, Connecticut . 168 

48. William and Mary College, Williamsburg, Virginia . . .173 

49. In Nassau Hall, Princeton, New Jersey.177 

50. In the Days When There Were No Public Schools . . . 181 

51. The Eagle School, near Philadelphia, Pennsylvania . . .185 

CHAPTER V. IN COLONIAL HOMES.189 

52. The Letitia Penn House, Philadelphia.189 

53. The Ridgely House, Dover, Delaware ..... 192 

54. A Pennsylvania Farmhouse Where Benjamin Franklin Visited 195 

55. “The Woodlands,” Philadelphia.199 

56. Doughoregan Manor, Maryland.202 

57. The Lee Mansion, Marblehead, Massachusetts . . . 205 

58. The Wentworth House, Portsmouth, New Hampshire . . 209 

59. The Rebecca Motte House, Charlestown, South Carolina . 212 

60. Gunston Hall on the Potomac, Virginia.216 

61. Mount Vernon, Virginia.218 


CHAPTER VI. STORIES OF THE WINNING OF INDEPEND¬ 
ENCE . 

62. Faneuil Hall, Boston, Massachusetts . 







CONTENTS 


63. The Old State House, Boston, Massachusetts .... 

64. Carpenters’ Hall, Philadelphia. 

65. Independence Hall, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 

66. Paul Revere’s Home, Boston, Massachusetts .... 

67. The Bunker Hill Monument, Charlestown, Massachusetts 

68. St. John’s Church, Richmond, Virginia. 

69. Where Washington Lived in Cambridge, Massachusetts 

70. The Story of the Old South Meeting-House, Boston, Massa¬ 

chusetts . 

71. Fort Moultrie, Charleston, South Carolina . 

72. The Morris-Jumel House, New York City . 

73. Three Shrines at Princeton, New Jersey. 

74. In the Mohawk Valley, New York. 

75. The Battle Monument at Bennington, Vermont 

76. On the Battle-Field of Germantown. 

77. With Washington at Valley Forge. 

78. Old Tennent Church, Freehold, New Jersey . . . . 

79. The Massacre of Wyoming Valley, Pennsylvania 

80. The Wallace House, Bound Brook, New Jersey 

81. Washington’s Headquarters at Morristown, New Jersey . 

82. The Massacre at Gnadenhutten, Ohio. 

83. The Springfield Meeting-House, New Jersey . 

84. At Saratoga, New York. 

85. Washington’s Headquarters at Newburgh, New York 

86. An Eye Witness at Yorktown, Virginia. 

87. Fraunces’ Tavern, New York City. 


PAGE 

229 

234 

237 

243 

248 

252 

255 

259 

263 

267 

270 

273 

277 

281 

284 

288 

291 

294 

297 

300 

303 

307 

310 

3i3 

316 






Cliff Palace, Mesa Verde National Park, Colorado 

(See page io.) 











CHAPTER I 


RELICS OF LONG AGO 

1 . The Mysterious Cahokia Mound, Illinois 

Long before Marquette and La Salle and Tonty and 

other brave Frenchmen explored the country, the 

Mississippi Valley in the neighborhood of what is now 

St. Louis, Missouri, was occupied by tribes of peace- 

loving men who have been called mound-builders. 

Just who they were or when they lived, no one knows. 

But it is certain that they were very intelligent and 

very patient; for they built scores of mounds which 

must have caused them an immense amount of labor. 

Some of these mounds were on the west side of the 

Mississippi, and others were on the east side. Those 

on the east side were built close to a central mound 

» 

that was bigger than all the rest together — the 
Cahokia Mound, it has been called. 

There are those who think that this great heap of 
earth was not raised up by men; that all the mound- 
builders did was to trim it and shape it as it was when 
the first explorer saw it. They say that to build it 
would have been impossible for men unacquainted 
with modern methods of handling great weights, 
since it is located eight miles from the Mississippi 
bluffs, the source of the supplies of earth they would 


2 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


have had to use. But most authorities seem to think 
that the mound was originally built by a vanished 
race. 

An explorer who, in 1811, visited the region of the 
mounds, stood in awe before them. He declared that 
he felt much as a man does who looks for the first time 
on the great pyramids of Egypt. He said the smaller 
mounds looked like “enormous haystacks scattered 
through a meadow.” 

It is believed that the Cahokia Mound — or Monks’ 
Mound, as it is sometimes called, because a company 
of Trappist monks tilled the ground there from 1810 
to 1813—was a long time in building. It probably 
was begun as a burial place for the dead. As burial 
after burial was performed, and one small pile of earth 
was added to another, the structure became so large 
that the natives used it as a temple. On the summit 
was kept burning a fire in honor of the sun-god; and 
there the people of the village in the center of which 
the sacred mound stood, came to worship. 

Cahokia Mound, as it now stands, is oval in shape. 
It is 102 feet high, and covers a little more than 16 
acres. It is larger than the Pyramid of Cheops in 
Egypt and the temple of the Aztecs in Mexico. In 
fact, it is the largest knowm structure of its kind any¬ 
where in the world. 

People think that if this mound were to be explored, 
there would be found remains of the civilization of that 
ancient day, similar to those found in another mound 
of like character about half a mile distant. 


THE MYSTERIOUS CAHOKIA MOUND 


3 


This smaller mass of earth was originally about four 
hundred feet in diameter and shaped like a cone, but 
in recent years fifteen or sixteen feet of the summit 
have been removed. These excavations brought to 
light skeletons, flint chips, broken pottery, bones of 
animals, and other fragments, which, it is thought, 
were scooped up by the people of that time when they 
took the ground around their homes to make the mound. 
The pottery unearthed shows that the favorite colors 



Cahokia Mound, Illinois 


of the Cahokia people were black, brown, and a com¬ 
bination of red and white. Copper relics have also 
been found, the most unusual of which are delicately 
wrought in the form of tiny tortoise shells. 

There is a theory that the Indians built the Cahokia 
Mound. But the Indians, as they have been known 
since America was discovered, do not seem to have had 
the mental ability to make and carry out so large a plan. 
Then how could their ancestors have been responsible ? 
So we have good reason to believe that it was a pre¬ 
historic race who left us this reminder of their presence 
in our country. 




4 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


Although some people who have cared more about 
making money by selling the land and building on 
it than they have cared for the wonderful work of the 
mound-builders, have wished to destroy the Cahokia 
Mound, it has as yet resisted their efforts. Some day 
Illinois may be persuaded to make a state monument 
there. The mound would then be the property of 
the public; and no one would dare lift a hand against 
this venerable relic. 


2 . The Great Mound at Moundsville, West Virginia 

One of the greatest relics of those who lived in 
America before the days of Columbus is the 



mound which gave its name to Moundsville, West 
Virginia. The age of this ancient burial place is un¬ 
known. Once a great white oak tree that grew on the 
top of the mound was cut down, and an examination 
of the trunk showed that it was more than five hun- 





THE GREAT MOUND AT MOUNDSVILLE 


5 


dred years old. There is no way of telling how old 
the structure was when the tree was a sapling. 

Originally the mound was ninety feet high, but 
eleven feet of earth were taken from the top by a 
builder who wished to make an observatory upon the 
summit. The sides are steep and covered with trees. 

The first mention of the curiosity was in 1772. In 
1838 the owner tunneled horizontally into the mound, 
beginning at the level of the ground. When the ’tunnel 
was hi feet long, the workmen came to a vault 
that had been excavated in the earth before the 
underground passage was commenced. This vault 
was 12 feet long, 8 feet wide, and 7 feet high. 
It was perfectly dry. Originally, upright timbers 
at the sides and the ends had supported cross 
timbers on which the roof rested. This roof was 
formed of unhewn stone. Gradually the timbers 
decayed, the stones fell, and the vault was nearly filled 
with earth. Examination of the timbers showed that 
they had been shaped by burning. There was no evi¬ 
dence of a tool of iron for cutting them, but near at 
hand were bits of charcoal, reminders of the painfully 
slow work of the ancient builders. In the vault were 
two skeletons, one of which was surrounded by 
650 ivory beads. 

Not yet satisfied, the owner of the mound began 
to make an excavation from the top straight down¬ 
ward. When halfway to the bottom, he found a second 
vault, just over the vault on the ground level. This 
also had caved in because of the decay of the support- 


6 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


ing timbers. A skeleton found there had on it seven¬ 
teen hundred ivory beads, five hundred sea shells, 
and five copper bracelets. One hundred and fifty 
pieces of isinglass were scattered over the body. Near 
by was a curious, oval stone, bearing three rows of 
hieroglyphics which have never been deciphered. 

It seems likely that the mound was built as the 
burial place for three people of note. Probably the 
two bilried in the lower chamber were a great warrior 
and his favorite wife. That many others were buried 
there was evident from the ashes that began to appear 
when the second excavation was about eight feet deep. 
As the cavity became deeper, it was found that the 
debris removed was made up almost entirely of ashes 
and burned bits of bone. 

For many years afterward the mound was neglected. 
The observatory was used as a restaurant and danc¬ 
ing-pavilion. Fair grounds were laid out around the 
mound, and a race track encircled the ancient monu¬ 
ment. The excavations were responsible for a sinking 
of the earth, so that there was a noticeable depression 
in the top. Gullies were cut into the sides by the con¬ 
stant washing of the rain, and footpaths were made 
at random on the slopes. 

Fortunately public-spirited men and women de¬ 
cided that this interesting monument must be pre¬ 
served. Appeal was made to the State Legislature, 
and the lawmakers were persuaded to purchase the 
ground and set it apart as the possession of the people 
of West Virginia. 


AMERICA’S EARLIEST ROAD-MAKERS 


7 


3 . America’s Earliest Road-Makers 

The earliest colonists in the East were not the first 
road-makers. They found trails already made through 
the forests and along the ridges. Neither were the 
first home-seekers farther to the west responsible for 
laying out the course of the paths that made possible 
their entrance to the heart of the country. These 
pioneers also found similar trails. 

Who were the trail-makers? The Indians? It is 
true that they traveled by the pathways which crossed 
and recrossed the country 
in all directions. But the 
Indians known to the colo¬ 
nists were not the first to 
travel these paths. An 
earlier race, the mound- 
builders, followed the same 
tracks. These mound- 
builders showed great clev¬ 
erness in adapting still 
earlier trails to their use. 

Yes, earlier trails. For the original trail-makers 
of America were not the native tribes, early or late. 
Hulbert, in his Historic Highways of America , tells 
vividly the story of the first trail-makers: 

“It was for the game animals to mark out what 
became known as the first thoroughfare of America. 
The plunging buffalo . . . broke great roads across 
the continent on the summits of the watersheds, be- 





8 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


side which the first Indian trails were but traces 
through the forests. Heavy, fleet of foot, capable of 
covering scores of miles a day, the buffalo tore his 
road from one feeding-ground to another, and from 
north to south, on the high grounds; here his roads 
were swept clear of debris in summer and of snow in 
winter. They mounted the heights and descended 
from them on the longest slopes, and crossed each 
stream on the bars at the mouth of the larger tribu¬ 
taries/’ 

It is remarkable that the unerring instinct of these 
ancient trail-makers enabled them to select the very 
courses that modern surveyors have found, after great 
labor, are the most favorable routes across the country. 
Down in West Virginia, between Grafton and Parkers¬ 
burg, where there is, on the Baltimore and Ohio Rail¬ 
road, some of the finest railway construction in the 
East, the railroad follows for miles almost exactly in 
the path of the buffalo. In fact, two of the great tun¬ 
nels in this stretch are directly under the road chosen 
by the burly beasts which once thundered through 
the forests, over the hills, and along the river-courses. 
More than this, it has been said that “the three great 
overland routes from the Atlantic seaboard into the 
central West were undoubtedly first opened by the 
buffalo; the first was the course through central New 
York, followed afterward by-the Erie Canal and the 
New York Central Railroad; the second, from the 
Potomac to the headwaters of the Ohio; the third, 
the famous route through Cumberland Gap into Ken- 


AMERICA’S EARLIEST ROAD-MAKERS 


9 


tucky.” The route of the Pennsylvania Railroad 
across the Alleghenies was an old buffalo trail. Later 
it was known as the Kittanning Path of the Indians, 
who followed the buffalo. And when General Forbes 
marked out his road across southern Pennsylvania 
towards Pittsburgh, he could do no better than choose 
the track of the wise buffalo. 

When the mound-builders came, they built their 
forts and burial places by the side of the old buffalo 
trails, which became their roads. Those who have 
studied the mounds have noted with interest that 
they lie by the side of modern roads which are succes¬ 
sors of the primitive trails. In Ohio, in Wisconsin, in 
Michigan, in Kentucky, in Tennessee, in Georgia, 
and in North Carolina, this fact is notable. 

While the mound-builders did not show any won¬ 
derful engineering skill in constructing their works, 
they were wise in the choice of sites. Usually they 
selected high ground. For instance, in Missouri, a 
group of mounds is on a long ridge near the Mississippi 
River, and it is to them that the farmers in the neigh¬ 
borhood flee for refuge in time of flood. Evidently 
their location was determined for a like reason by their 
builders centuries ago. 

The buffalo trails which the mound-builders adopted 
as their own were not very easy for travelers. One 
of the early explorers wrote in his journal, after hours 
of tedious going, “We reached here very late at night, 
after considerable trouble, for the paths were only 
about half a foot wide where the snow would sustain 


IO 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


one; and, if you turned ever so little to the right or 
left, you were in halfway to your thighs.” 

The narrow buffalo trails were gradually improved 
by later users. When Washington journeyed to west¬ 
ern Pennsylvania in 1753 on his mission to the 
French, he followed rough trails; and in 1754 he 
widened ‘Nemacolin’s Path, that he might have room 
for the guns he wished to take to Fort Necessity. In 
1755 Braddock made the same trail still more distinct; 
he left behind him “a great gorge of a road which, 
after a century and a half, we can follow as plainly 
as a new-made furrow behind a plow.” 

4. The Cliff Dwellings of the Southwest 

It is difficult to realize that here in our own America 
are some of the most interesting and mysterious ruins 
and monuments of peoples that vanished long ago — 
the cliff dwellings hidden in the walls of lonely canyons 
in New Mexico, Arizona, Utah, and Colorado. Who 
were the builders? When did they live? How did 
they manage to carve shelves in the rock, transport 
building materials, construct houses that have lasted 
to this day, and then climb to the difficult places where 
their homes were placed? What was the story of 
their construction ? What lessons are we to learn 
from them? 

In southwestern Colorado, cutting the Mesa Verde, 
are canyons where houses are perched in different levels 
in the cliffs. There are ruined community houses, 
. watch towers, and granaries. The largest of all is 


THE CLIFF DWELLINGS OF THE SOUTHWEST n 


Cliff Palace, where twenty-three distinct families lived. 
Spruce Tree House, named because of a large spruce 
tree growing in front of it at the time of its discovery, 
was the home of perhaps three hundred people. There 
is a Temple of the Sun, which has supplied many de¬ 
tails concerning the people of the past. 

Down in the Canyon de Chelly in Arizona, but high 
up on the face of its precipitous wall, is White House, 
built no one knows how many centuries ago, in a cave 
forty feet in height, hollowed out of the face of a for¬ 
bidding rock, two thousand feet high. From the top 
of the cliff the cavern cannot be seen, for the great 
rock face slopes inward more than one hundred feet. 

A branch of the Canyon de Chelly is the Canyon del 
Muerto, where travelers tell of cliff dwellings on almost 
every ledge. Pueblo Bonito, in Chaco Canyon, has 
houses that present some unique problems. Perhaps 
the greatest problem is connected with the gigantic 
“braced-up” cliff which towers above some of the 
ruins. One visitor to the region says : “ These scattered 
stones at the bottom of this leaning tower of Chaco 
are an enigma. They represent a naive effort to 
prop up a massive curb of solid rock on the part of 
these aboriginal engineers.” From the top of the cliff 
the view of the Pueblo Bonito is most interesting. 
One third of the ruin has been fully excavated, so that 
the eye can look into successive cavities, square, oblong, 
and round, which were dwelling-places of the men and 
women of long ago. In some instances the dwellings 
were not perched high on the cliffs, but were on plateaus. 


12 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


In most cases, however, the cliff seemed to be the 
favorite site. 

A writer in The National Geographic Magazine , in 
speaking of these cliff dwellers, says: 

“The manner in which they reached their most 
secure abodes is not always apparent. In some places, 
where no natural ledge gave access, traces of steps 
cut in the living rock remain; elsewhere, small holes 
sufficiently large for the insertion of the toes and the 
grip of the fingers have been chiseled into the steep 
face of the cliff, sometimes along a horizontal and some¬ 
times along a vertical line. Commonly, however, 
there is no evidence whatever either of natural or 
artificial approaches, and we must suppose that the 
inhabitants entered by means of ladders. To reach 
some of these eyries is one of the exhilarating features 
of a trip to the cliff-dwellers’ regions.” 

Scientists have been interested in dating these struc¬ 
tures, and they have made studies that have had a 
degree of success. When Dr. J. W. Fewkes reported 
to the Department of the Interior the finding and 
excavating of the Sun Temple, in Mesa Verde Park, 
he said he was convinced that it was built about a.d. 
1300. His estimate was based on a study of the age 
of a red cedar tree which was growing when he began 
work near the summit of the highest wall of the temple 
annex. The tree was killed in the process of excavat¬ 
ing, for its roots penetrated the adjacent ruins. When 
it was cut down, the superintendent of the near-by 
Montezuma National Forest counted 360 annual rings. 


THE PUEBLO DWELLERS OF NEW MEXICO 13 


But the tree grew in a mound of ruined wall, so it was 
thought wise to add at least 250 years for the period 
of the construction of the temple, its use, and its 
falling into ruins. 

A careful study of the age of the ruins has been made. 
A method adopted in Chaco Canyon, New Mexico, was 
the driving of a shaft into the accumulation of debris 
thrown out from day to day during the life of the com¬ 
munity. At Pueblo Bonito the refuse lying in front 
of the village forms a long mound measuring about 
75 by 800 feet at the base and all of 16 feet in height. 
Broken pottery and other industrial remains gave some 
indication of the great length of time that elapsed 
during the gradual accumulation of this debris. 

At Mesa Verde the investigators obtained, by bor¬ 
ing, sections of the timbers used in the construction 
of the floors and roofs of the canyon houses. Careful 
study of the rings in these specimens disclosed the age 
of the trees from which the timbers were cut, and even 
showed periods of drought when tree growth was meager. 
It is hoped that by a future study of specimens from 
every tree it will be possible to determine just how 
long ago these periods of drought occurred. Then the 
dating of the ruins will be simple. 

5. The Pueblo Dwellers of New Mexico 

Before Columbus came to America, there were houses 
in the New World which were five, six, and even 
seven stories high. Most Indians lived in wigwams, or 
tepees, but down in what is now New Mexico and 


14 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


/ 


Arizona, a strange people — no one knows just where 
they came from — built great apartment houses before 
the days of the white explorers. Some of the ancestors 
of the people who settled Plymouth and Jamestown 
were not yet born when each of these pueblos — as 
they were called — was sheltering scores of families. 



Acoma Indian Pueblo, West of Albuquerque, New Mexico 

A traveler, after visiting some of the pueblos, said 
that a thousand-room building was not unknown. 
“Some of the structures are of stone plastered over 
with mud, while more frequently they are built of 
sun-baked bricks made of clay mixed with straw/’ he 
wrote. “The lower stories of the ancient dwellings 
were without doors or windows, and could only be 
entered by a kind of trapdoor in the roof. It must 
have been somewhat of an undertaking for the stout 
old ladies of the tribe to do much visiting, as it required 
a courageous heart, a steady head, and the agility of 









THE PUEBLO DWELLERS OF NEW MEXICO 15 

a trapeze performer to gain an entrance. Most of the 
houses were built on the barren mesa, but some of the 
most pretentious were perched on the summit of cliffs, 
and were reached by a single ladder. When the com¬ 
munity climbed up, went to bed, and pulled the ladder 
in after them, it was their way of letting visitors from 
another city know that they were not at home to callers. 
This custom of pulling up the ladder must have had 
a good effect on those individuals of the tribe who 
showed a disposition to stay out late at night, for it 
was either come home before the ladder went up, or 
sleep out of doors.” 

One of the best-known of the pueblos is at Isleta, 
close to Albuquerque, New Mexico. Those who wish 
to see terraced houses must go elsewhere, but those 
who are content to look on a village that is on the same 
site, and many of whose buildings are the same, as when 
Coronado made his visit in 1540, have only to look 
from the windows of the railroad train. Much more 
satisfactory, however, would be a visit to the pueblos, 
and an interview with the unassuming governor who 
is chosen by the votes of the people of the community 
village. 

The village has also a lieutenant governor, a council 
of twenty-five members, a sheriff, and a judge, whose 
decisions must be approved by the United States In¬ 
dian agent. 

The Isletans are numbered among the thousands 
of Pueblo Indians of New Mexico who own nearly 
one million acres of land and boast of United States 


16 WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 

citizenship, because of a clause in the treaty of Guade¬ 
loupe Hidalgo with Mexico in 1848, though they have 
not the right to vote. 

Laguna, another curious pueblo town, is two miles 
from the railway station of the same name; and on 
the road that passes through Laguna is Acoma, the 
pueblo of pueblos, whose history is as romantic as any¬ 
thing in New Mexico, the state of romance. 

Acoma pueblo is a series of terraced houses of plain 
adobe construction, whose upper terraces are reached 
by the customary ladders. For 1000 feet these houses 
extend, while they are 40 feet from the ground to the 
highest terrace. They are built on a precipitous rock 
350 feet above the mesa, which is itself 7000 feet above 
sea level. 

When the visitor is told that the present approach 
from the plain to the rock is easy when compared with 
the method of entering in days when enemies were 
abroad, he has new respect for the hardy mountaineers. 
Their ancestors thought nothing of toiling up a stair¬ 
way that must have been as difficult as modern con¬ 
struction ladders to a lofty church steeple. That 
these men paid little heed to such difficulties is evident 
from the fact that the walls of the church in this 
pueblo are 60 feet high and 10 feet thick, while the 
timbers are 40 feet long and 14 inches square. All this 
material was painstakingly carried up the mesa. The 
length of time required for this herculean task may be 
judged from the fact that forty years were consumed in 
transporting and depositing the earth for the churchyard. 


THE PETRIFIED FORESTS OF ARIZONA 


T 7 


Three miles from the rocks where the Acoma pueblo 
is situated, is a strange formation that stands out from 
the plain in curious fashion — the Mesa Encantada, 
or “Enchanted Mesa.” This inaccessible height — 
so tradition says — was the original site of Acoma. 
How the Indians managed to ascend to its forbidding 
summit, 430 feet high, is a problem that may never 
be solved. The reason for the abandonment of the 
position is equally an enigma, though tradition sug¬ 
gests that the reason was the fall of a portion of the 
cliff while the men were absent; when they returned 
and found some of the women dead in the debris, 
they sought a site somewhat more approachable. 

The great rock stands silent. But many of the 
pueblos are as full of life today as they were hundreds 
of years ago. 

6. The Petrified Forests of Arizona 

The most ancient ruins in Arizona are not the houses 
of the Pueblo Indians or the strange habitations of the 
cliff dwellers, but the Petrified Forests in the district 
a few miles south of Adamana. 

There are three of these forests where, scattered over 
an area of many square miles, are the petrified trunks 
of hundreds of gigantic trees that stood in majesty in 
an age long gone. 

Probably they grew by a lake at some distance from 
the place where they now give delight to the visitor 
who picks his way among their broken sections, or 
crosses the ravine in the First Forest, nearest to 


18 WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 

Adamana, on the sixty-foot stone log embedded at 
either end in sandstone. 

The length of this log bridge is 111 feet, the span is 44 
feet, and the greatest diameter of the trunk is 10 feet. 
The shape of the roots in their sandstone covering 
can still be plainly seen. No one thinks that this 
tree was thrown across a gulch, but rather that the 



Petrified Forest National Monument, Arizona 


gulch was formed beneath the fallen tree. Through 
many ages the soil and rock beneath were washed 
away, until the petrified tree was left as it is today. 

After these trees of an unknown time fell —per¬ 
haps during a tornado or a flood — they must have 
been carried downstream. The next step in their 
history was the deposit of sand and clay above them, 
until they were buried, possibly thousands of feet deep. 

Next, underground water, colored in rainbow tints 
by the minerals in the ground, was absorbed by the 





THE PETRIFIED FORESTS OF ARIZONA 19 

wood; as the fiber decayed, lime or silica took its 
place. This is the process of petrifaction, or turning 
to stone. Volcanic action probably followed, which 
resulted in burying the logs in the depths of the sea. 
After ages passed at the bottom of the sea, another 
volcanic disturbance probably caused the land to rise 
above the surface. With it came the trees. 

Next came the wearing away of the overlying sand, 
and the uncovering of the marvels that are now like 
the jewels of Aladdin’s cave. Here are amethyst and 
topaz, onyx and chalcedony, carnelian and agate. 
Efforts have been made to cut the logs and release 
some of the jewels, but not much can be done in this 
direction, when a six-inch steel saw is worn to a ribbon 
half an inch wide in the attempt to saw through a 
single log. Even then the work requires several days. 
It would be interesting to learn how the Indians 
managed to fashion their stone hammers, arrowheads, 
knives, and scrapers from the chips of these jeweled 
logs. 

It is fortunate that these fallen and transformed 
monarchs have proved so hard to cut; otherwise they 
might not have been on hand in such profusion when, 
in 1906, the three forests which make up the region 
were set apart as a national monument. 

Visitors are forbidden to carry away even the smallest 
souvenir from the Petrified Forest, but they are per¬ 
mitted to learn that thin slices of the logs have been 
ground down to an unbelievable thinness. To the 
naked eye of the casual observer these samples from 


20 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


Arizona’s Garden of Jewels are a vision of beauty; 
under the microscope of the scientist they tell in plain¬ 
est language the wonder story of transformation from 
stately, erect, cone-bearing trees to prostrate cabinets 
of precious stones. 

7. Inscription Rock, New Mexico 

What is probably the most gigantic autograph 
album in existence is situated in a lonely region some 
seventy miles southeast of Gallup, New Mexico. 

The album is not a book, but an immense, precipitous 
cliff of white sandstone. Past its base led one of the 
trails taken, in the sixteenth, seventeenth, and 
eighteenth centuries, by Spanish explorers and traders, 
when they wished to go from Santa Fe to the Indian 
pueblos of Zuni and Moqui. 

One day it occurred to a member of an expedition 
to carve a message on the sandstone. Others followed 
him, saw the message, and did as he had done. As 
the years and centuries passed, the signatures and 
messages became so numerous that today travelers 
like to go to the place from which rises the great cliff, 
that they may study these curious records. 

Perhaps the first record was made in 1526; at least 
no earlier date has been found. Less than a genera¬ 
tion later, followed a man who carved #in Spanish a 
simple statement which read : 

Passed by here the Adelantado Don Juan de Onate from the 
discovery of the South Sea [the Pacific Ocean] on the 16th of 
April, 1606. [The real date was 1605.] 


INSCRIPTION ROCK, NEW MEXICO 


21 


If all who write in public places had as good reason 
for leaving a record of their achievements, fault would 
not be found with them because of their writing! In 
a score of words he told the story of his journey of 
six months, over fifteen hundred miles of the wildest 
country, to see if there were truth in the report of a 
great ocean to the westward. 

Another man of many deeds and few words was 
General Vargas, who conquered the Indians when they 
rebelled against the authority of the Spanish. After 
leading a successful expedition against them, he carved 
on the sandstone a message almost as brief as that of 
Onate: 

Here was the General Don Diego de Vargas who 
conquered to our holy faith and the royal crown 
all New Mexico at his own expense. Year of 1692. 

Long before the conqueror of the Indians used his 
sword to leave on the rock the story of his deeds, 
Governor Nieto —• evidently a man not so modest 
as some of his predecessors — wrote a few lines of 
verse. The Spanish has been translated by one who 
studied the words. He found it necessary to guess 
at some of the letters and figures. This is the transla¬ 
tion as he gives it: 

Here [passed] Governor 

Don Francisco Manuel de Silva Nieto 

Whose indubitable arm and valor 

Has now overcome the impossible 

With the wagons of the King our Lord —• 

[A] thing that he alone put into this affect 


22 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


9 of August six [teen] hundred twenty and nine — 

That it might be heard I passed to Zuni and carried 

the faith. 

From another inscription it is evident that the Zunis 
were not always good to those who went to them to 
preach the gospel. This record was written by a man 
in great haste, to judge from his puzzling abbrevia¬ 
tions. Perhaps he was too lazy to make more marks 
on the stone than he thought necessary! 

Se Psao A 23 De Mo de 1632 Ao 
A A Bengsa De Mte 
Del pe Letrado 
Lujan 

Those who have puzzled long over the abbreviations 
have given an English translation: 

They passed on 23 of March of 
the year 1632 to the avenging of 
Padre Letrado’s death. 

Lujan 

The soldier called Lujan was a member of a party 
sent to punish the Zunis for killing Padre Letrado 
with arrows. 

After boastful inscriptions like that of Governor 
Nieto and the autographs of men of might, there is 
welcome for the words of one who makes no claim 
either to deeds of valor or to fame: 

I am from the hand of Felipe de 
Avellano, 16 of September, soldier. 

At least, that is wJiat the record would say if it were 
in English instead of in Spanish. 


INSCRIPTION ROCK, NEW MEXICO 


23 


Close to Inscription Rock is El Morro, another rock 
that from some points of view seems a part of it. The 
two have been set apart as a national monument. 

So many latter-day visitors to the great rocks in the 
midst of the silent mesa have shown a desire to follow 
the example of the first white visitors to the spot, by 
writing messages that are really a desecration of the 



El Morro National Monument, New Mexico 


Spanish Autograph Album, that the National Park 
commissioner has found it necessary to build a fence 
nearly a mile and a half long at the base of the rock. 
Nominally this is to keep cattle away. But surely 
would-be marauders can easily take the hint that John 
Smith or Henry Jones must not attempt to register 
below Juan de Onate, the founder of Santa Fe, and the 
many other Spanish writers. 




24 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


8. At Natural Bridge, Virginia 

There is a tradition that when George Washington 
was a surveyor, he visited the great stone arch known 
as the Natural Bridge, in Virginia, climbed some twenty- 
five feet up one of the precipitous walls, and carved 
his initials there. Visitors are told just where to look 
for the “ G. W. ” ; but it is necessary to use a good deal 
of imagination to see the letters. 

Years ago an imaginative visitor to the bridge pro¬ 
ceeded to write a wonderful story of the adventurous 
climb of the surveyor who was later to carve his name 
indelibly on the records of the world. Thousands of 
boys and girls have read this thrilling, even blood¬ 
curdling, story, which was 
included in the selections 
in a favorite series of school 
readers. 

Sam Houston, the Indian 
fighter and the president 
of Texas when it was a re¬ 
public, was familiar with 
the arch above Cedar 
Creek; for he was born not 
far from the gorge in the 
Blue Ridge that is spanned 
by the bridge not made by 
the hands of men. Per¬ 
haps, as he looked from its 
parapet into the creek bed far below, or as he 
stood by the water and gazed up at the arch, he 





AT NATURAL BRIDGE, VIRGINIA 25 

thought of the Indian legend of the building of this 
bridge, which the primitive men called the Bridge of 
God. The legend tells how the Monacans, fleeing 
before the Shawnees and Powhatans, came to a great 
chasm which they could not cross. In despair they 
fell on their faces and prayed that the Great Spirit 
would deliver them. When they rose, they saw with 
wonder that a great stone arch spanned the chasm. 
Fearing to trust themselves to it, they sent the women 
and children ahead to test it. Then all crossed just 
in time to turn and defend the passage against the 
advancing hosts. 

Thomas Jefferson was the first one to write of this 
Bridge of God. From his boyhood home, “Shadwell,” 
not far from Charlottesville, he followed the beautiful 
valley of the James until he came to what he later 
described thus: 

“The most sublime of Nature’s works. It is on the 
ascent of a hill, which seems to be cloven through its 
length by some great convulsion. . . . Though the 
sides of the bridge are provided in some parts with a 
parapet of fixed rocks, yet few men have resolution to 
walk on this and look over into the abyss. You in¬ 
voluntarily fall on your hands and feet, creep to the 
parapet, and peep over it. Looking down from the 
height about a minute gave me a violent headache. 
If the view from the top be painful and intolerable, 
that from below is delightful ... so beautiful an arch, 
so elevated, so light, and springing as it were, up to 
heaven!” 


26 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


Jefferson did not rest until he possessed the bridge 
and the land surrounding it. At Williamsburg, Vir¬ 
ginia, there is on file the deed he secured from George III 
of England to the property. This deed reads, in part, 
as follows: 

“Know ye that for divers good causes and considera¬ 
tions, but more especially for and in consideration 
of the sum of twenty shillings of good and lawful money 
for our use paid to our Receiver General of our Rev¬ 
enues, in this our Colony and Dominion of Virginia, 
we have given, granted and conferred, and by these 
presents for us, our heirs and successors, do give, grant 
and confirm unto Thomas Jefferson, one certain tract 
or parcel of land containing 157 acres, lying and being 
in the county of Botetourt, including the Natural 
Bridge on Cedar Creek, a branch of James River, and 
bounded as followeth. . . 

When the property came into his possession, Jefferson 
built near one end of the bridge a log cabin for the 
accommodation of two slaves, who were instructed to 
receive and care for the visitors who should go there 
in response to the owner’s earnest invitation to see 
something that would add joy to life. It is said that 
the stone chimney built for this cabin became a part 
of a modern house on the same site. 

The present-day visitor who would follow in the 
steps of the friends of Jefferson to what Henry Clay 
called “the bridge not made with hands, that spans a 
river, carries a highway, and makes two mountains 
one,” has first an impressive journey, whether he 


AT NATURAL BRIDGE, VIRGINIA 27 

comes from the north, up the Shenandoah Valley, 
through Lexington, and across the intervening fifteen 
miles of picturesque hill road; or from the south, past 
the Peaks of Otter, across the valley of the James 
River near its headwaters; or from the east, across 
the green mountain ridge that gives enticing hint of 
the beauties of the canyon of Cedar Creek, spanned 
by Jefferson’s arch. 


CHAPTER II 


IN THE DAYS OF COLONY BUILDING 

9. Early Jamestown, Virginia 

During the early years of the colony of Virginia, 
reports were published in England that it would be' 
most unwise for any one to go to this new country, 
because it would be impossible to obtain food there, 
and, moreover, the climate was unwholesome. 

In 1610 a curious pamphlet was printed in London, 
by the authority of the Council of Virginia, in answer 
to these charges. It was entitled A True Declaration 
of the Estate of the Colony in Virginia. 

Among the strangely worded paragraphs in the 
pamphlet is this: 

“They are to put this wheat into the ground, five 
corns in one spit of earth, and two beans with them. 
The wheat comes multiplying into divers stalks, grows 
up twelve or fourteen feet high: yielding some four, 
five, or six ears, on every stalk; and in every ear, some 
five hundred, some six hundred, some seven hundred 
corns. The two beans run upon the stalk of the wheat 
as our garden peas upon sticks, which multiply to a 
wondrous increase. The wheat being sown thick, 
some stalks bear ears of corn, and some bear none; 
but in those barren stalks there is as much juice as 
in some sugar cane, of so delicate a taste, as no fruit in 

28 


EARLY JAMESTOWN, VIRGINIA 


29 



England is comparable to it; out of which Sir Ralph 
Lane conceived that we may extract sugar in great 
quantity. But Sir Thomas Gates afhrmeth that our 
men do make cordial drink thereof, to their great com¬ 
fort. ” 

Attention was called to the fact that “the natural 
peas of the country” return “an increase innumera¬ 
ble”; that “all things committed to the earth do mul¬ 
tiply with an incredible 
usury”; and that “the 
beasts of the country, as 
deer, red and fallow, do 
answer in multitude to our 
proportion of oxen.” In 
proof of this it was stated 
that the people of the coun¬ 
try dressed in “ the skins 
of these beasts,” that herds 
of two hundred deer had 
been seen near the fort, and 
that Powhatan had at least 
four thousand skins “piled 
up in one wardrobe.” 

After mentioning the opossums, “in shape like to 
pigs, shrouded in hollow roots of trees,” the “turkeys, 
great, fat, and exceeding in plenty,” and the abundant 
wild fowl, the author went on thus: “The fruits: as 
apples, running on the ground, in bigness and shape of a 
small lemon, in color and taste like to a preserved 
apricot; grapes and walnuts innumerable; the vines 


The Old Church Tower, James¬ 
town, Virginia 




3° 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


being as common as bramble, the walnut trees as the 
elms in England; not to speak of cucumbers, musk- 
melons, pompions, potatoes, parsnips, carrots, turnips, 
which our gardens yielded with little art and labor.” 

The author argued that, simply because the site of 
Jamestown had proved unhealthful, the entire colony 
should not be condemned. That later comers, on land¬ 
ing, might not make their first home in “the fens and 
marshes,” “the Lord Governor hath built two new 
forts (the one called Fort Henry, and the other Fort 
Charles, in honor of our most noble Prince and his 
hopeful brother) upon a pleasant hill, and near a little 
rivulet which we call Southampton River. They 
stand in a wholesome air, having plenty of springs of 
sweet water; they command a great circuit of ground, 
containing wood, pasture, and meadow; with apt 
places for vines, corn, and gardens. In which forts it 
is resolved that all those that come out od England 
shall be at their first landing quartered; that the 
wearisomeness of the sea may be refreshed in this 
pleasing part of the country.” 

For the further encouragement of possible colonists, 
the statement was made that “there are incredible 
variety of sweet woods, especially of the balsam tree, 
which distilleth a precious gum; that there are in¬ 
numerable white mulberry trees, which in so warm a 
climate may cherish and feed millions of silkworms, 
and return us in a very short time as great a plenty 
of silks as vented into the whole world from all the 
ports of Italy; that there are divers sorts of minerals, 


ON VIRGINIA’S EASTERN SHORE 


3 i 


especially of iron ore, lying upon the ground for ten 
miles circuit; that a kind of hemp or flax, and like 
grass, doth grow there naturally, which will afford stuff 
for all manner of excellent cordage.’’ 

As the first settlers in Jamestown suffered terrible 
hardships during what was called the Starving Time, 
it is pleasant to learn that those days of want were 
over, and that at last the people were enjoying an 
abundance of good things in Virginia. 

10. On Virginia’s Eastern Shore 

Of the four centers of greatest interest in connection 
with the early history of America — Boston, New York, 
Philadelphia, and the Chesapeake Bay region in Vir¬ 
ginia — the last is least known. Yet there, within 
a radius of little more than 
fifty miles, was Jamestown, 
the first permanent settle¬ 
ment on the continent; the 
famous houses on the James 
River, still shown to those 
who pass leisurely along 
this pleasing waterway; 

Henrico, the early town Old Presbyterian Church on the 
planned not far from the Eastern Shore 

later site of Richmond; Williamsburg, Jamestown’s 
successor after the capital of the colony had been de¬ 
stroyed during Bacon’s Rebellion; York town, in later 
years famous because there were the closing scenes of 
the Revolution; Old Point Comfort, the port of entry 






32 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


for the mainland; and the Eastern Shore, the isolated 
tongue of land that was one of the most favored sec¬ 
tions of old Virginia. 

The bit of the peninsula that belongs to Virginia 
contains two counties, and is about seventy miles long, 
while the average breadth is about eight miles. The 
Indians, with whom this point of land was a favorite, 
called it Acchawmake, or “The Land Beyond the 
Water.” The colonists called it Accomac, or “Ye 
Ancient Kingdom of Accawmake.” 

Tradition says that the first settlers on Accomac 
sought the Eastern Shore in 1610; that they inter¬ 
married with the Nassawattox Indians, and became 
semi-savage. But the first settlement of which reliable 
history tells, was made in 1614. Probably the first 
permanent white settler was named Savage. His 
descendants still live there; Savage is a common name 
on the Eastern Shore. Historians of Virginia declare 
that the Savages represent the oldest American family 
in the United States. 

Before many years other settlers followed the original 
Savage. The lands were rich, and immigrants were 
attracted by the freedom from the landing-tax required 
at Point Comfort. Later the community bore its 
share of taxation, as was apparent, in 1652, when the 
leaders of the people prepared the famous Northampton 
Protest to the General Assembly and so to the King 
against taxation without representation. In this the 
request was made that the “ taxation of forty-six pounds 
of tobacco per head ... be taken off the charge of 


ON VIRGINIA’S EASTERN SHORE 


33 


the county,” because the law was “arbitrary and il¬ 
legal ; forasmuch as we had neither summons for elec¬ 
tion of burgesses nor voice in the assembly.” 

Perhaps Governor Berkeley remembered this pro¬ 
test twenty-five years later when, in his eagerness to 
attach to himself the freemen of Accomac and 
Northampton, he promised freedom from taxation for 
twenty years, if they would remain faithful to him 
against the leaders of Bacon’s Rebellion. 

In 1643 about one thousand of Virginia’s fifteen 
thousand inhabitants lived in this small section of 
the colony. In 1667 the Eastern Shore contained 
about three thousand people. The prosperity of those 
who lived thus far from treacherous Indians, disease, 
and famine caused the dwellers on the mainland to 
look on them with envy. They had no money at this 
early date, but they had such substitutes as roanoke, 
made of cockle-shells cut into pieces and strung like 
beads, and peake, less valuable and darker, in the 
shape of a cylinder. Beaver pelts were also used in¬ 
stead of currency. 

At first there was no court on the peninsula. The 
necessary journey to the mainland became so trying 
that a separate Court of the Eastern Shore was asked 
for. So, in 1632, Accomac had its first monthly court. 

The records of this early court tell of the startling pun¬ 
ishment given to offenders. For “unlawful swearing” 
John Parramore was ordered to “sit by the heels in the 
stocks at the time of divine service.” Unless Joane 
Butler should take back an accusation she was to be 


34 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 



“drawn across King’s Creek, at the stern of a canoe.” 
For slander it was thought fit that an accused man 
“should stand three several Sundays at the time of 
divine service before the face of the whole congrega¬ 
tion in a white sheet with a white wand in his hand.” 
Later on, for stealing a pair of breeches, the same man 
was made to appear in church three Sundays “with a 
pair of breeches tied around his neck, and the word 
‘Thief’ written upon his back.” 

11. The Blue Laws of Old Virginia 

One of the strangest of the documents that have 
come down to us from the days of the colonists is the 


Shirley on the James River, Virginia 
Probably built before 1700, in the days of the Blue Laws. 

Collection of Laws Divine , Moral and Martial , for the 
Colony of Virginia , which was printed in London 







THE BLUE LAWS OF OLD VIRGINIA 


35 


for the guidance of all who joined the company of those 
who went to find a home in Virginia. 

The penalty for blasphemy was death. An oath 
was forbidden, severe punishment being provided for 
the first offense, and assurance being given that for 
the second offense a bodkin would be thrust through 
the tongue of the guilty colonist. For a third offense 
he was to be brought into court and, on conviction, 
he was to be sentenced to death. 9 

If a man should be disrespectful to a minister, he 
was to be whipped three times, and he was to “ask 
public forgiveness in the assembly of the congregation 
three successive several Sabbath days.” 

It was ordered that, twice each day, men and women, 
“upon the first tolling of the bell, shall upon the work¬ 
ing day repair unto the church, to hear divine service, 
upon pain of losing his or her day’s allowance for the 
first morning; for the second, to be whipped ; and for 
the third, to be condemned to the galleys for six 
months.” 

Failure to attend church service on Sunday morning 
and afternoon, and catechising, was to be punished 
“for the first fault to lose their provision and allowance 
for the whole week following; for the second, to lose 
the said allowance, and also to be whipped; and for 
the third, to suffer death.” 

If any man shall “rob the store of any commodity 
therein, of what quality soever, or shall rob from his 
fellow-soldier or neighbor, anything that is his, victuals, 
apparel, household stuff, tools, or what necessary else 


36 WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 

whatsoever, by water or land, out of boat-house or 
knapsack, he shall be punished with death.” 

Murmuring, mutiny, resistance, or disobedience to 
authority was to be punished, for the first offense, 
by whipping three times, and the offender was to ac¬ 
knowledge his sin upon his knees, “with asking of for¬ 
giveness upon the Sabbath day in the assembly of the 
congregation; and for the second time so offending, 
to be condemned to & galley for three years; and for 
the third time so offending, to be punished with death.” 

The speaking of disgraceful words, or the commission 
of any act to the disgrace of any person in the colony, 
was forbidden “upon pain of being tied hands and feet 
together, upon the guard every night, for the space 
of one month, besides to be publicly disgraced himself, 
and be made incapable ever after to possess any place, 
or execute any office in the employment.” 

Mistreatment of an Indian or stealing his goods was 
punished as severely as though the injured one were 
a colonist. 

Any one who should “dare to wash any unclean 
linen, or throw out the water or suds of foul clothes, 
in the open streets, within the palisades, or within 
forty feet of the same,” or “rinse and make clean any 
kettle, pot, or pan, or such-like vessel, within twenty 
feet of the old wall, or new pump,” was to be punished 
by whipping. If the offense was repeated, the “mar¬ 
tial court” was to deal with the matter as it saw fit. 

While the reason for the second part of the follow¬ 
ing provision is not apparent at once, the reason for 


PLYMOUTH AND PROVINCETOWN 


37 


the first portion is plain: “Every man shall have an 
especial and due care to keep his house sweet and clean, 
as also so much of the street as lieth before his door, 
and especially he shall so provide, and set his bedside 
whereon he lieth, that it may stand three feet at least 
from the ground; or he will answer the contrary at a 
martial court.” 

If a laundress, whose duty it was to wash the cloth¬ 
ing of a number of people, should keep any of the arti¬ 
cles for her own use, or should “change the same will¬ 
ingly and wittingly,” she was to be whipped and was 
to lie in prison until she repaid the loss. 

A baker who should cheat “any man of his due and 
proper weight and measure,” or should use “any dis¬ 
honest and deceitful tricks to make the bread weigh 
heavier, or make it coarser, in order to keep back any 
j5art or measure of the flour or meal” was to be con¬ 
demned to lose his ears for the first offense; was to 
be condemned to a year in the galleys for the second 
offense; and was to go to the galleys for three years 
for the third offense. 

All of these laws, and many others, were to be read 
by the minister “every Sabbath day before catechising, 
publicly in the assembly of the congregation, upon 
pain of his entertainment checks for that week.” 

12. Plymouth and Provincetown, Massachusetts 

Let’s go to Plymouth ! How shall we go — by land 
or sea? Why, by sea, of course, like the Pilgrims. 
But ours will be a very different voyage. They came 


38 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


in winter, but it is summer now. They were crowded 
into the stuffy little cabin of the Mayflower , through 
nine weeks of stormy weather. We go gliding down 
the coast from Boston over smooth water, in the com¬ 
fortable excursion steamer Betty Alden , and in 
three short hours we are slipping past Clark’s Island 
into Plymouth Harbor. 

And so we have landed. On Plymouth Rock? By 
no means. The Betty Alden docks at an up-to-date 
steamboat-landing. But almost the first thing we see 
as we come ashore, is the marble portico built to shelter 
that famous rock on which, tradition tells us, Mary 
Chilton was the first to set her foot. We step 
inside the portico, look down over an iron railing, 
and there is Plymouth Rock. Such a humble little 
boulder it is, after all. But the “1620” carved upon 
it stands for noble and courageous deeds. 

Poor bruised and battered rock! Did you ever 
hear how, in 1774, when the people of the town at¬ 
tempted to raise the rock and carry it to Town Square, 
it broke apart? The upper part was hauled to the 
square, where it lay at the foot of a liberty pole, on 
which waved a flag which bore the words, “ Liberty 
or Death.” It remained there until 1834, and then, 
on the Fourth of July, accompanied by a great proces¬ 
sion, it was dragged to Pilgrim Hall and set down in 
front of the entrance porch, where visitors were al¬ 
ways astonished to find it so far inland. The towns¬ 
people at last realized themselves the absurdity of 
having the rock at such a distance from the water. 



Peregrine White’s Cradle, in Pilgrim Hall, Plymouth, Massachusetts 



© A. S. Burbank 

Plymouth Rock in the New Location, Plymouth, Massachusetts 


39 








40 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


They again laid hold of it, in the summer of 1880, and 
without ceremony dumped it down once more upon 
that portion of it which still lay on the shore. The 
sections were neatly cemented together, and over them 
was erected a canopy, which, though far from beauti¬ 
ful, at least protected the rock for many years. But 
the sands had shifted, and the rock was no longer 
at the water’s edge; so, at the time of the Tercentenary 
Celebration, it was lowered to tide-level, where the 
waves wash over it as they did when the Pilgrims landed. 
Over it was raised the present simple, dignified portico. 

There may the famous old rock lie in peace forever. 
They say we do not really know that the Pilgrims ac¬ 
tually landed on it. The only evidence we have is 
the testimony of one old man named Elder Faunce, 
who knew the early settlers, and heard the tale from 
them. But it is, after all, a very probable story, so 
let us go on believing it. For Plymouth Rock has been 
called “the corner stone of the nation.” 

As we look up from the rock, before us, on the brow 
of Cole’s Hill, is a noble bronze statue — the figure of 
Massasoit, the friend of the Pilgrims. He stands 
there looking out to sea, as if he were forever watching 
for the Mayflower which will never return. 

Cole’s Hill is the place where, in the first dreadful 
winter, the Pilgrims buried their dead, and in the 
spring planted corn over their graves, so that the In¬ 
dians might not know how many of the little band had 
gone. For “of a hundred persons scarce fifty re¬ 
mained.” 


PLYMOUTH AND PROVINCETOWN 


4i 


Walking up Leyden Street, we try to picture it as 
it looked in 1621. Then it consisted of a single row of 
two-roomed log cabins, the roofs thatched, the chinks 
between the logs filled with clay, the windows fitted 
with oiled paper instead of glass. There was a com¬ 
mon house twenty feet square, and at the top of what 
is now Burial Hill was the fort built by Myles Standish. 

Parallel to Leyden Street 
flows the Town Brook. 

Think of what it meant to 
those people who were 
about to build homes in the 
wilderness to find that 
“ there is a very sweet brook 
runs under the hillside, and 
many delicate springs of 
as good water as can be 
drunk.” After they landed, 
the Pilgrims were divided 
into nineteen families, to 
each of which was given a 
plot of land along the Town 
Brook. There the houses 
were built, and the por¬ 
tions of land were called 

“meersteads.” You can The Pilgrim Monument, Prov- 

incetown, Massachusetts 

trace these meersteads in 

Plymouth today in some of the old gardens that 
slope to the brook. 

Many household possessions that came over in the 





42 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


Mayflower with the Pilgrims, and that were used in their 
log homes are carefully inclosed in glass cases in Pilgrim 
Hall, a building erected nearly a hundred years ago to 
guard these treasures. There are the chairs of Elder 
Brewster and Governor Carver; Peregrine White’s 
cradle; a pair of stiff little baby shoes; the sword of 
Myles Standish with the mysterious Arabic inscription 
on the blade; Governor Bradford’s Bible; and the 
sampler of Lorea, daughter of Myles Standish. In 
letters worked by her childish fingers we read: 

Lorea Standish is my name, 

Lord guide my hart that I may doe Thy will. 

But much as we wish to linger here, close to the very 
hearts and homes of the Pilgrims, we must be off to 
Provincetown — the place, as you know, where they 
landed first. 

We go by motor this time, for the Provincetown 
boat from Boston does not stop at Plymouth, and the 
railroad trip is roundabout and long. Our road crosses 
the Cape Cod Canal, then follows the curving peninsula, 
the end of which has been called the “bare and bended 
arm of Massachusetts.” 

And it is bare. There is sand in hills, sand in wind¬ 
rows, sand everywhere. As one author has said, 
“Surely round about Provincetown is where the Wal¬ 
rus arid the Carpenter walked together.” Do you 
remember the lines ? 

The Walrus and the Carpenter 
Were walking close at hand, 

They wept like anything to see 


PLYMOUTH AND PROV1NCETOWN 


43 


Such quantities of sand. 

“If this were only cleared away,” 

They said, “it would be grand.” 

Captain John Smith preceded the Pilgrims to the 
peninsula. In his New England he spoke of it 
as “only a headland of high hills of sand, overgrown 
with shrubby pines, brush, and such trash, but an ex¬ 
cellent harbor for all weathers. The Cape is made by 
the Maine sea on the one 
side, and a great bay on the 
other, in the form of a 
sickle.” 

When the weary visi¬ 
tors from Holland came to 
Provincetown they saw “a 
goodly land” which was 
“wooded to the brink of 
the sea.” 

Four days later a party 
went ashore, guided by 
Myles Standish, and ex¬ 
plored the country. They 
had gone but a mile when 
they met a number of In¬ 
dians and a dog. The ex¬ 
plorers kept on their way Myles Standish Monument, Dux- 
... . bury, Massachusetts 

until they came to the 

place where the town of Truro now is. Here they 
saw “new stubble where corn had been set the 
same year; also they found where lately a house 










44 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


had been, where some planks and a great kettle 
were remaining, and heaps of sand newly paddled with 
their hands, which they, digging up, found in them 
divers fine Indian baskets filled with corn.” 

On November 17, when they returned to the May¬ 
flower it was necessary “to wade above the knees.” 
The exposure had fatal effects. “Some of our people 
that are dead took the original of their deaths here,” 
wrote Governor Bradford, later. 

Provincetown was not settled until 1680, and the 
name it now bears was not given to it until 1727. 
Nearly two centuries later the monument commemorat¬ 
ing the first landing of the Pilgrims was built on a 
sandy hillock, the only elevation near. Two hundred 
and fifty feet high it stands, proclaiming to all who 
approach the shore that there was the real beginning 
of American liberty. 

13 . In the Wake of the Pilgrims 

A motor slipping swiftly along over smooth ma¬ 
cadam ; the salt wind and the sweet-smelling pines; 
glimpses of summer homes by the blue sea—This is what 
the old coast road from Boston to Duxbury is today. 
And yet long ago, in Pilgrim days, this highway was 
only a rough trail worn through the forests and across 
the meadows by the moccasined feet of the Indians. 

Even today as we pass through the South Shore 
villages, we are aware that this region was once the 
home of the red men. Nantasket, Quonahassett (Cohas- 
set), Satuit (Scituate) — they are all Indian names. 


IN THE WAKE OF THE PILGRIMS 


45 


But the wigwams have vanished forever. Across the 
North River, over the Marshfield hills, and we have 
arrived in Duxbury, named by Myles Standish for his 
old home, Duxborough Hall, in Lancashire, England. 

Duxbury today is filled with summer homes. The 
modern cottages have been built on Powder Point and 
on the Standish Shore, to catch the breeze from the 
ocean. But many people have bought old houses in 
the village, and have repaired and enlarged them, 
without spoiling their simplicity and charm. Most 
of these houses are gray-shingled, with green shutters. 
They have sloping roofs, and great central chimneys 
which provide for a fireplace in each of the four rooms 
on the ground floor. At the rear of each house is a 
garden filled with bright, old-fashioned flowers, and 
at one side of the front door is a lilac bush. This front 
door, green, like the shutters, has carved upon.it a 
cross — to keep out the witches. 

Of this type is the Alden house. The present house 
was built by John Alden’s third son, Jonathan Alden, 
and both John and Priscilla Alden died there. It is 
now the property of the Alden Kindred of America, 
and open to visitors in the summer time. On a knoll 
a short distance away is a weather-worn slab, marking 
the site where John Alden built his house in 1627. 

John and Priscilla Alden and their children were not 
alone in Duxbury. Elder Brewster’s son, the Elder 
himself, and others of the Plymouth colony moved over 
and established homes. Out of sight of the Alden 
house, but near enough for friendly calls, lived Myles 


46 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


Standish and his family. A son of Myles Standish 
married an Alden daughter. By that time the hurt 
which Priscilla had given the gallant Captain by 
saying, “Why don’t you speak for yourself, John?” 
had long since been forgiven. 

The Standish house is in South Duxbury, near the 
foot of Captain’s Hill. It stands at the end of a grass- 
grown lane, in an open field, facing the bay. We find 
it locked today; but we may sit on the flat doorstone 
and picture to ourselves the Standish family living 
there. Of course we realize that this is not the original 
building. The date 1666 is on the broad chimney, 
and it is said that this house was erected by Myles 
Standish’s son near the site of the one put up by his 
father. But the compact little dwelling with its 
sheltering gambrel roof is as sturdy and strong as if 
it had indeed been built by that stanch, stout-hearted 
warrior, Standish of Standish. 

Over there in the little burying-ground near the 
village, where John and Priscilla Alden too are lying, 
Myles Standish sleeps, with four cannon shielding the 
soldier’s slumbers. High up on Captain’s Hill is a 
monument, three hundred and ten feet above the bay. 
On top of the monument is the figure of the man, so 
small of stature, so large of soul, who protected and 
served the Pilgrims. His cloak about him, one hand 
upon his sword, and the other pointing across the bay 
to Plymouth, it seems as if the noble Captain himself 
were standing there, on guard forever over the land 
he loved so well. 


WRECK OF THE SPARROW HAWK 


47 


For “with the people of God he had chosen to suffer 
affliction,” and “in return for his zeal they had made 
him the Captain of Plymouth.” 

14. The Wreck of the Sparrowhawk 


In the basement of Pilgrim Hall, in Plymouth, Massa¬ 
chusetts, lie the remains of what is supposed to be the 
first vessel wrecked along the New England coast. 



The Hulk of the Sparrowhawk 
Exhibited on Boston Common. Now in Pilgrim Hall, Plymouth, Massachusetts. 


Near the close of the year 1626, the Sparrow- 
hawk set sail from England for Virginia; possibly 
for Jamestown, where the little colony had been strug¬ 
gling for a foothold since the arrival of the first home- 
seekers in 1607. The ship was forty feet long in the 
hull, and the breadth of her beam about twelve feet; 
she carried forty tons burden, and had forty persons 
aboard. If such a vessel could be placed alongside 
of one of the great ocean steamers of today, it would 
seem like hardly more than a rowboat. 

Picture to yourselves this little craft tossed about 
on stormy seas, the passengers crowded together in 
the cabin, the crew struggling with icy decks and rig- 







4 8 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


ging. At the end of six weeks all on board are dis¬ 
couraged and “mad for land.” They have “no water, 
nor beer, nor any wood left,” and Captain Johnston 
is “sick and lame of scurvy, so he can but lie in his 
cabin door and give direction.” The desperate pas¬ 
sengers “compel the mariners to steer a course between 
the southwest and nor’west, that they might fall in 
with some land whatsoever it was, caring not.” 

In this extremity the mate lost his reckoning, and 
found himself making, not for Virginia, but for the 
New England coast. One more heavy storm struck 
the ship, and drove her ashore. 

Now this was the most fortunate thing that could 
have happened, for the place where she ran aground, 
at Orleans, on Cape Cod, was just across the bay from 
Plymouth. By friendly Indians, the shipwrecked peo¬ 
ple sent a letter to Governor Bradford, telling him 
of their helpless situation, and entreating him “to 
send a boat unto them with some pitch and oakum and 
spikes, with divers other necessaries for the mending of 
their ship” ; also to send some corn and other supplies, 
so that they might continue their voyage to Virginia. 

Governor Bradford immediately dispatched a shallop 
with the desired supplies. The ship was repaired, 
and once more put to sea. 

But the Governor “had not been at home many days 
but he had notice from them, that by the violence of a 
great storm and the bad mooring of the ship (after she 
was mended) she was put ashore, and so beaten and 
shaken as she was now wholly unfit to go to sea. . . . 


EARLY PICTURE OF THE INDIANS 


49 


And so their request was they might have leave to so¬ 
journ with them till they could have means to convey 
themselves to Virginia. . . . 

“Their requests were granted, and all helpfulness 
done unto them; their goods transported, and them¬ 
selves and goods sheltered in houses as well as they 
could. . . . They had ground appointed them, and 
some of them raised a great deal of corn, which they 
sold at their departure. ... A couple of barks car¬ 
ried them away at the latter end of the summer. And 
sundry of them have acknowledged their thankfulness 
since from Virginia. ” 

As for the Sparrowhawk , she stayed for years right 
where the storm had landed her, until finally the 
drifting sand completely buried her. She might have 
been there on the beach still, had it not been that 
in 1863 part of her framework became uncovered. 
Timber by timber she was dug from the sand. The 
sections were taken to Boston, where they were re¬ 
stored to their original positions, and the hulk of the 
Sparrowhawk was placed on exhibition on Boston 
Common. Later it visited the city of Providence, 
and still later was presented to Pilgrim Hall in Ply¬ 
mouth. There you may see today all that is left, 
after three centuries, of the ill-fated Sparrowhawk. 

15 . An Early Picture of the Indians of New England 

When the first colonists came from England to 
America, they were fascinated by the strange manners 
and customs of the Indians. Many accounts were 


50 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


written, that readers in the homeland might know 
something of the nature of the country to which their 
friends had gone. 

One of these accounts was given by Thomas Morton 
in his New England Canaan , in 1637. Writing 
“Of their Houses and Habitations/’ he said: 

“The natives of New England . . . gather poles 
in the woods and put the great end of them in the 
ground, placing them in form of a circle . . . and, 
bending the top of them in form of an arch, they bind 
them together with the bark of walnut trees, which is 
wondrous tough ; so that they make the same round 
on the top for the smoke of their fire to ascend and pass 
through. These they cover with mats, some made of 
reeds, and some of long flags, or sedge, finely sewed to¬ 
gether with needles made of their Indian hemp, which 
there groweth naturally; leaving several places for 
doors, which are covered with mats, which may be 
rolled up and let down again at their pleasure; making 
use of the several doors, according as the wind sits.” 

In these rude houses they had beds much like those 
made by campers in the forest today: 

“They lie upon planks, commonly about a foot or 
eighteen inches above the ground, raised upon rails that 
are borne up upon forks; they lay mats under them, 
and coats of deers’ skins, otters’, beavers’, raccoons’, 
and of bears’ hides, all [of] which they have dressed 
and converted into good leather, with the hair on, 
for their coverings; and in this manner they lie as 
warm as they desire.” 



The Statue of Massasoit, Plymouth, Massachusetts 


5i 








52 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


After telling of the manner of dressing the skins 
of animals, including “some coats of the feathers of 
turkeys, which they weave together with twine of 
their own making, very prettily/’ and “ mantles made of 
moose-skins; which beast is a great large deer as big 
as a horse,” he described other articles of clothing: 

“Mantles made of bears’ skins are an usual wearing 
among the natives that live where the bears do haunt; 
they make shoes of moose-skin, which is the principal 
leather used for that purpose; and for want of such 
leather (which is the strongest) they make shoes of 
deers’ skins; and of such deers’ skins as they dress 
bare, they make stockings that come within their 
shoes, and are fastened about at their belt, which is 
about their middle. A good, well-grown deerskin is 
of great account with them, and it must have the 
tail on, or else they account it defaced, the tail being 
three times as long as the tails of our English deer, yea 
four times as long. This, when they travel, is wrapped 
round about their body, and, with a girdle of their 
making, bound round about their middle; to which 
girdle is fastened a bag, in which his instruments be 
with which he can strike fire upon any occasion.” 

The women’s dress included “shoes and stockings 
to wear likewise when they please, such as the men 
have, but the mantle is . . . much longer than that 
which the men use; for, as the men have one deer’s 
skin, the women have two sewed together at the full 
length, and it is so large that it trails after them like 
a great lady’s train.” 


ON BOSTON COMMON 


S3 


It was a custom of the Indians, twice each year, to 
set fire to the vegetation. “The reason that moves 
them to do so, is because it would otherwise be so over¬ 
grown with underwoods that the people would not be 
able in any wise to pass through the country out of a 
beaten path.” 

Unfortunately, the burning of the grass scorched 
the trees and hindered their growth, and it endangered 
the houses of the colonists, until the men learned the 
trick of backfiring that is today so useful in the prairies 
and in the forests. 

It was noted that the Indians were accustomed to 
preserve a supply of grain for the winter, making use 
of “barns” which were “holes made in the earth, that 
will hold a hogshead of corn apiece in them. In these 
(when their corn is out of the husk and well dried) they 
lay their store in great baskets which they make of 
bark, with mats under, about the sides, and on the 
top; and putting it into the place made for it, they 
cover it with earth; and in this manner it is preserve 
from destruction, to be used in case of necessity, and 
not else.” 


16 . On Boston Common 

It is impossible to think of Boston without the 
Common — resort of the populace from the days of 
the Puritans, playground of boys and girls of nearly 
three centuries, favorite pasture of the gentle Boston 
cow until 1830, scene of stormy events in colonial and 
later history. The scant fifty acres that slope gently 


54 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


down Beacon Hill from the State House have been 
jealously guarded from all intrusion ever since March 
30, 1640, when the town records contained this entry: 
“Also agreed upon that henceforth there shall be no 
land granted either for house-plot or garden to any 
person out of the open ground or Common Field.” 

When Winthrop and his followers came to Boston 
in 1630, they found one lonely settler living there — 
the Reverend William Blackstone. It is said he used 
to ride about upon a bull, and that perhaps it was that 
animal which traced some of the present paths in the 
Common. In any case, the land now occupied by the 
Common was owned by Blackstone; and when, in 
1634, Boston became overcrowded for his solitary 
tastes, and he moved on farther into the wilderness, he 
sold to the town those forty-eight and two fifths acres 
which were to become the center of Boston life in all 
the years to come. The tract was purchased as a “ train¬ 
ing-field,” and for the “feeding of cattle.” To pay for 
it each householder was taxed at least six shillings. 

The land was ideal for the purpose for which it had 
been chosen, for it was an open field. In fact there 
were but three trees upon it — only two besides the 
Great Elm, which was dear to the hearts of the Boston 
people for over two centuries. It was badly damaged 
in the storms of i860 and 1869, and at last, on Febru¬ 
ary 15, 1876, the noble old tree fell before a high wind, 
to the sorrow of all Bostonians. Ever since the first 
“plantation of trees,” in 1740, more and more have 
been added at frequent intervals, so that today the 




9 


Showing the Old Elm, the-State House, and Park Street Church, where America was first sung. 















56 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


Common is well shaded; but there is no tree of them 
all that has ever been able to take the place of that 
beloved Old Elm. 

Just as Boston would not be Boston without the 
Common, so the Common would not be the Common 
without the Frog Pond, where boys and girls for nearly 
three hundred years have skated in winter, and in 
summer have sailed their toy boats or gone swimming. 
We can picture those children of long ago reluctantly 
leaving their play by the pond to drive home the cows 
by way of the narrow, crooked lanes which later be¬ 
came streets. These boys and girls probably felt quite 
important, for only old residents had the privilege of 
pasturing cows on the Common. None of those who 
came to the town after 1646 had the right, “ unless he 
hire it of them who are Commoners.” And then, after 
the children had gone home, a little before sunset came 
the “gallants” and maidens of the town, to stroll for a 
time on the Common, “ till a nine o’clock bell brings them 
home to their respective habitations, when presently the 
constables walk the rounds to see good order kept.” 

In earliest days the constant dread of Indians kept 
the home guards ever on the watch; whenever an un¬ 
expected light appeared in the direction of the Common, 
the townspeople looked anxiously to see if it could be 
from the tar barrel on a pole that was long kept on 
Beacon Hill, that the skyward flare and clouds of smoke 
might give warning. 

In 1745 the Common resounded to the tread of armed 
men — citizen soldiers who were off to the attack of 


ON BOSTON COMMON 


57 


Louisburg. When they returned, they celebrated 
their victory on the Common. Only a short distance 
away, on the top of Beacon Hill, is Louisburg Square, 
named to commemorate that victory. 

Many patriotic meetings have been held on the 
Common, and countless companies of soldiers have 
drilled on the parade-ground. In the trying days when 
the British troops occupied Boston, they, too, chose the 
Common for a training-field. On the nineteenth of 
April, 1775, Colonel Smith sent in from Concord for 
reenforcements. Earl Percy promptly assembled a 
brigade on Longacre, along the Tremont Street side of 
the Common. The line extended from the head of 
the Common to Court Street, opposite Master Carter’s 
schoolhouse. The schoolmaster said, “Boys, war has 
begun; the school is broken up.” The column took 
up its march toward Concord. On June 17, the 
British marched from the Common to fight at Bunker 
Hill. That night the bodies of many of them were 
carried down for burial in trenches on the Common. 

But Boston was not always the scene of strife. There 
were gay celebrations, like that of New Year’s Day, 
1701, when, according to Judge Samuel Sewall: “Just 
about break-a-day Jacob Amsden and three other 
trumpeters gave a blast with the trumpets on the 
Common near Mr. Alford’s. Then went to the Green 
Chamber, and sounded there until about sunrise.” 
Then he told how the bellman called in his strident 
voice doggerel verses welcoming in the new century. 

The Boston Evening Post, in 1753, told of an august 


58 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


gathering of the maids and matrons of Boston Town 
at a spinning bee : 

“In the afternoon, about three hundred spinners, 
all neatly dressed, and many of them daughters of the 
best families in town, appeared on the Common, and 
being placed orderly in three rows, at work, made a 
most delightful appearance . . . and a long train of 
gentlemen of note, both of town and country . . . 
walked in procession to view the spinners.” 

As years went on, the Common became more and 
more a recreation ground for old and young. For 
the men, for instance, there was the joy of the Smokers 7 
Retreat, where, in the middle of the nineteenth century, 
one could lawfully smoke one’s pipe, a pastime pro¬ 
hibited on the streets of Boston at that time. And in 
winter-time, grown-ups enjoyed the spectacle of the 
coasting almost as much as the children enjoyed the 
sport. M. A. De Wolfe Howe, in his book, Boston 
Common , tells of coasting days and ways: 

“The sleds, beautifully made, and bearing such 
fanciful names as ‘Comet/ ‘Cave Adsum, 7 and ‘Danc¬ 
ing Feather, 7 were objects of admiration and pride. 
Racing was the order of the day. The cry of ‘ Lullah 7 
cleared the track. The ‘Long Coast, 7 from the corner 
of Park and Beacon Streets . . . along the Tremont 
Street Mall, was the favorite course. ... In the 
seventies [of the nineteenth century] the double-runner, 
or double-ripper, came into popularity. . . . With 
the increase of these monster sleds, the roping-off of 
the coasts became a necessity for safety; and where 


MOUNT DESERT, MAINE 


59 


the lengthwise paths of the Common crossed the coasts, 
bridges for foot-passengers were erected. But accidents 
were so many that such coasting was soon forbidden.” 

Times have changed, but the Common remains, 
and will remain —• a beloved spot to the boys and girls 
of today, a hallowed shrine to those who were the boys 
and girls of yesterday. 


17. Mount Desert, Maine 



There is an island off the Maine coast where hills 
and bays, valleys and trees, combine to make a region 
of delight for summer 
visitors. Champlain, 
its discoverer, thus de¬ 
scribes it in his diary: 

“ The island is high and 
notched in places, so 
that from the sea it 
gives the appearance of 
a range of seven or eight 
mountains. The sum¬ 
mits are all bare and 
rocky. The slopes are 
covered with pines, firs, 
and birches. I named 
it ‘Isle des Monts 
Desert’ ” — which means “Island of the Deserted 
Mountains.” 

After Champlain’s discovery a company of French 
people came to the island. Although they did not 


Champlain Monument, Mount Desert, 
Maine 





6o 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


stay long, they made the first of the settlements that 
led to the long conflict between the French and English 
for the possession of land in North America. 

This conflict at last came to an end with Wolfe’s 
victory on the Plains of Abraham. After that the 
English could settle wherever they chose on the north¬ 
eastern seacoast. Home-makers came then from 
Massachusetts. There were restless spirits in the 
colony by the Bay who began to cast longing eyes 
toward the free lands of Maine, with its fragrant 
forests and deep harbors and enchanting islands. 
Many of the earlier emigrants paused in the neighbor¬ 
hood of Penobscot Bay, but even before 1760 some 
daring pioneers pushed on and sought the bold head¬ 
lands and the inviting valleys of Mount Desert. 

In 1760 Francis Bernard became governor of Massa¬ 
chusetts. One of his first acts as governor was to pre¬ 
pare a document to send to the English government, 
presenting the claims of Massachusetts for the lands 
between the Penobscot and St. Croix, to offset the claims 
of Nova Scotia. So clearly did he set forth in this 
document the rights of the Massachusetts colonists, 
that they had no doubt that their title to the lands would 
be made sure. To show their gratitude, therefore, to 
Governor Bernard, on February 27, 1762, the General 
Court of Massachusetts made him a grant of one half 
the island of Mount Desert. 

The Governor’s plans for the development of the 
island were never fully carried out. For in 1768 he 
became so unpopular with the people of Massachusetts, 


MOUNT DESERT, MAINE * 61 

on account of his open loyalism, that at last a meeting 
was called in the Old South Meeting-House to protest 
against him. A committee, including Jol^n Hancock, 
Samuel Adams, and other patriots, drove in a proces¬ 
sion of eleven chaises to call upon him at his stately 
home in Jamaica Plain. As a result of this visit he 
was recalled to England in 1769, and upon his return 
there was knighted for his services to the British gov¬ 
ernment. Ten years later he died, leaving his lands 
in Mount Desert to his son, John Bernard. This son 
came to America to claim his inheritance. He mort¬ 
gaged the half of the island which thus became his, and 
then sailed back to England, where he died in 1809. 

In 1786 another claimant for a grant of Mount 
Desert appeared. Bartolemy de Gregoire and his 
wife, Maria Theresa, came from France, and presented 
a petition to the General Court of Massachusetts. 
They declared that a grant of the island had been 
made by Louis XIV to Mme. de Gregoire’s grand¬ 
father, Antoine de la Mothe Cadillac, the founder of 
Detroit. They brought with them letters from La¬ 
fayette urging their cause. The plea of the Frenchman 
who had done so much for the colonies could not well 
be refused, and that part of the land then in possession 
of the state was transferred to the heir. 

So Mount Desert was now owned by two families. 
But as years went on, when M. and Mme. de Gregoire 
had died, and their children had returned to France, 
the lands on the island gradually passed, by sale and 
exchange, into the hands of many owners. 


62 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


18 . Providence, Rhode Island, and the First Church 

Roger Williams was a London youth, the son of a 
merchant tailor. The boy became so efficient in ste¬ 
nography that Sir Edward Coke, “seeing so hopeful a 
lad,” sent him to Charter House School, whence he 
received a scholarship which enabled him to finish 
his education at Cambridge University. Later he 
went to Salem, in Massachusetts Bay Colony, because 
he sought the liberty to worship God, which he could 
not find at home. But his ideas of liberty of worship 
conflicted with those of the authorities in Massachu¬ 
setts. So, in 1636, he was banished. 

At first he thought he would give his life to teaching 
the Indians; but the idea of founding a colony for 
those who, like himself, sought liberty to worship God 
in their own way, appealed to him. 

Even before he left Salem, he began to treat with 
the Indians for the right to build his colony in the 
lands far south of Massachusetts Bay. 

Of his conferences with the Indians and the results, 
he wrote later: 

“ God was pleased to give me a painful, patient spirit 
to lodge with them in their filthy smoke holes ... to 
gain their tongue. Canonicus . . . was not, I say, 
to be stirred with money to sell his lands to let in for¬ 
eigners. ’Tis true he received presents and gratuities 
of me, but it was not thousands, not ten thousands of 
money could have bought of him an English entrance 
into the Bay. . . . I gave him and his youngest 
brother’s son, Miantonoma, gifts.” 


PROVIDENCE AND THE FIRST CHURCH 63 


It was winter when Roger Williams made his journey 
to the lands received from the Indians by these gifts. 



Statue of Roger Williams, Providence, R. I. 


He was “ sorely tossed for fourteen weeks, not know¬ 
ing what bread or bed did mean.” 

The story of the first settlement and the reason for 





64 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


changing the site to Providence is related in another 
letter from Williams: 

“I first pitched, and began to build and plant at 
Secunk. . . . But I received a letter from my ancient 
friend, Mr. Winslow, then Governor of Plymouth, 
professing his own and others’ love and respect to me. 
Yet lovingly advising me (since I was fallen into the 
edge of their bounds and they were loth to displease the 
Bay) to remove but to the other side of the water, 
and then he said I had the country free before me, and 
might be as free as themselves, and we should be neigh¬ 
bors together. These were the joint understandings 
of those two eminently wise and Christian governors 
and others (in their day), together with their counsel 
and advice as to the freedom and vacancy of this place; 
which in this respect and many other providences of 
the Most Holy and Only Wise, I called Providence.” 

Two years after the settlement of Providence, the 
first Baptist church in America, and the second in the 
world, was founded there. Roger Williams became 
pastor, but he soon withdrew, and devoted his entire 
time to caring for his Indians. 

The church met in private houses or under the trees, 
for more than sixty years. The first meeting-house 
was built in 1700. A larger building was erected in 
1726. Among the papers of the church is an account 
of Richard Brown for furnishing food for those who 
raised the frame of this second meeting-house: 

One fat sheep, which weighed forty-three pounds . £ o 14.04 

For roasting the said sheep, etc.8 



IN HISTORIC RHODE ISLAND 65 

For one lb. butter.£01 

For two loaves of bread which weighed five lbs.2 

For half a peck of peas. I>0 3 


The third meeting-house was built in 1774. The 
spire was modeled after one of the beautiful, though 
rejected, designs for the spire of St. Martin’s-in-the- 
Fields in London. The bell which was hung in the 
steeple of the meeting-house in Providence came from 
London. Both bell and steeple were paid for by funds 
raised by a lottery. 

The first pastor who served in the new building was 
president of Rhode Island College, an institution lo¬ 
cated in Providence in 1773 ; and one of the purposes 
in building the third meeting-house was to have a 
place for the commencements of the institution, which 
later became Brown University. 

In the Revolution the members of this church were 
ardent patriots. They welcomed back with the warm¬ 
est demonstrations one Stephen Gano, a surgeon during 
the war. Scarred as he was from the chains with 
which he had been bound on a prison-ship, and eager 
for the outstretched hands of friends, that quiet meet¬ 
ing-house must have held for him the very peace of God. 

The old church building, still in use, appears much 
as it did in the days of the patriots. 

19. In Historic Rhode Island 

Rhode Island is the largest in the group of islands 
of the state to which it gave its name. The Indians 
called it Aquidneck, “Isle of Peace.” Verazzano, 




66 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


in 1524, called it Luisa. At the same time he com¬ 
pared it to the Island of Rhodes in the Mediterranean. 
That comparison fixed the name of the gem of Narra- 
gansett, called by a historian of 1715 “the paradise 
of New England,” which was “a coat warmer” than 
Boston, though it was but sixty-five miles away. This 
difference is due to the Gulf Stream, which is closer 
to Rhode Island than it is to Boston. 

Even before the Revolution Newport, near the 
southern end of the fifteen-mile-long island, became a 
popular watering place for fashionable colonials. Dur¬ 
ing the Revolution the British had headquarters there 
until they were driven out by the plucky patriots. 
A popular tale on the island relates the exploit by which 
General Prescott, the British commander, was taken 
prisoner, although in the midst of his friends. Major 
William Barton, learning that Prescott was living at 
the home of a loyalist five miles north of New¬ 
port, decided to surprise him there. To do this, it 
was necessary to pass through waters patrolled by 
many British ships. In July, 1777, with fifteen men, 
Barton pushed off in five whaleboats from Tiverton, 
across Sakonnet River from the upper end of Rhode 
Island. Passing Bristol, they went to Hog Island and 
rowed silently between Patience and Prudence Is¬ 
lands. Near Hope Island they made their way among 
the hostile fleet. When they landed on Rhode Island, 
there was a march of a mile before them, with enemy 
pickets everywhere. But they reached the house, 
found General Prescott, and carried him off a prisoner. 


IN HISTORIC RHODE ISLAND 


67 


More than a year later the passage to the east of 
Rhode Island was the scene of a second heroic attempt. 
The British had blocked the Sakonnet River, the east¬ 
ern entrance to Narragansett Bay, by anchoring the 
Pigot galley three or four miles north of Sachuset 
Point and Sakonnet Point. The Hawk , with sixty 
men, sailed past the British batteries until it was close 
to the galley. Talbot, the commander of the expedi¬ 
tion, coolly studied the exact position of the obstruc¬ 
tion from a small boat, then directed the attack, which 
was made by the Hawk at full speed. Discovery did 
not daunt them, a galling fire did not confuse them, 
but they kept on their way until, with a kedge anchor, 
they tore a hole in the protecting net of the galley; 
and though it was more heavily armed than the Hawk , 
they were able to board and capture the vessel. 

When the British left Newport, in 1779, the town 
was in ruins. “But I doubt not the town will be re¬ 
built and exceed its former splendor,” one historian 
of the day wrote. It has been rebuilt, but with differ¬ 
ent splendor. In the old days it was a seaport, with 
docks a mile long, and it even aspired to be the metrop¬ 
olis of America. Today it is called the social capital 
of America, and is filled with palatial summer homes. 
All visitors to Newport feel the charm of the combina¬ 
tion of towering cliff and boiling surf, of green hills 
and shady streets, of blue water dotted with the white 
sails of speedy yachts, of walks that are quiet and 
peaceful and other walks that are close to the noise 
of the tireless sea, of forts and lighthouse and windmills. 


68 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


Among the windmills of the island many thoughtful 
people count the Old Stone Mill in Touro Park, which 
has been the subject of more speculation perhaps than 
any other relic in America. Longfellow made his 
guess as to this ruin when he wrote “The Skeleton in 
Armor.” He connected the town with the Northmen, 
and made one of them say: 

There, for my lady’s bower, 

Built I the lofty tower, 

Which to this very hour, 

Stands looking seaward. 

But romance has been pricked effectively by a study 
of the will of Benedict Arnold, ancestor of the traitor 



The Old Tower, Newport, Rhode Island 


of that name, and first charter governor of the colony. 
Arnold referred several times to “My Stone Built 
Wind Mill,” and in such a manner that its identity 
with the Round Tower on the hill seems certain. 




RELICS IN NEW CASTLE, DELAWARE 69 


20. Relics of the Past in New Castle, Delaware 

In the minds of most people Benjamin Franklin’s 
name is not connected with the writing of epitaphs, 
but there is a tomb in a churchyard at New Castle, 
Delaware, on which the statement is made that he is 
the author of the following inscription : 

To the memory of John Curtis, Esquire, late Speaker of the 
Assembly, a Judge of the Supreme Court, Treasurer and Trustee 
of the Loan Office, who departed this life Nov. 18, 1753, aged 
61 years. If to be prudent in council, upright in judgment, 
faithful in trust, give value to the public man; if to be sincere in 
friendship, affectionate to relations, and kind to all around him, 
make the private man amiable, thy death, O Curtis, as a grieved 
loss long shall be lamented. 

Not far from the resting place of the man who was 
thus honored by Franklin, is engraved the message: 

Traveller, what do you inquire? Know our friend Hercules 
Coutt was from Melrose in Great Britain. Thence he came to 
this colony of New Castle. In the discharge of his duties he was 
indefatigable; in temper forbearing; in manner courteous. In 
this country he filled many trusts, civil as well as military. He 
yielded to a premature fate by fever the 30th day of September 
Anno Domini 1707. 

The quaint old town in which is the cemetery with 
these and other curious inscriptions, was started by the 
Swedes in 1631, when it was called New Stockholm. 
Twenty years later the Dutch built a fort there, and 
called it Fort Kasimir. Later the Dutch called it 
Sandhoec and New Amstel. In 1675, when the English 
took possession, they tried their hand at giving names. 



7 o WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 

Grape Wine Point and Delaware Town were two at¬ 
tempts, but New Castle was finally chosen. 

The site of Fort Kasimir lies under the Delaware, 
and the only relic of the Dutch days is an odd little 
house that faces the market square, which was laid 
out by Peter Stuyvesant in 1658. At one end of the 
square is the curious stone-paved courthouse which has 


A Relic of the Days of the Dutch, New Castle, Delaware 

been in use since 1672. To this building William Penn 
was welcomed, when he came up the Delaware. A 
tablet on the western wall tells of his coming. 

On the 28th Day of October, 1682, William Penn, the 
great Proprietor, on His First Landing in America, Here 
Proclaimed His Government, and Received from the Com- 





A BLOCKHOUSE IN DELAWARE 


7 i 


missioner of the Duke of York the Key of the Fort, the Turf, 
Twig, and Water as Symbols of his Possession. 

From the steps of this building, as a center, was sur¬ 
veyed the twelve-mile circle whose arc was to be the 
northern line of Delaware, according to the royal grant. 
The arc forms the curious boundary that is so unlike 
any other boundary in the United States. 

To the rear of the courthouse is the Episcopal church, 
organized in 1689, though the present building was 
begun in 1702. A son of the first rector, George Ross, 
was a signer of the Declaration of Independence. A 
sister of Mr. Ross married George Reid, another of the 
signers, whose tomb is in the rear of the church. The 
beautiful home occupied by him during his later years 
was burned, but the house built by his son, of the 
same name, is one of the show places of the town. 

21. Where the Swedes Built a Blockhouse in Delaware 

Long before William Penn came to the Delaware 
River, the Swedes had a few forts and settlements in 
what is now Delaware, and even as far north as a bit 
of eastern Pennsylvania. A few of the buildings erected 
by them are still standing, and one of the best preserved 
is part of a house on the banks of Naaman’s Creek, just 
within the northern line of Delaware. 

The road which passes the house has always been 
a main thoroughfare. Washington used it when he 
traveled from Mt. Vernon to Philadelphia. Today 
those who ride over the same road in their automobiles 
stop at the old Swedish house for luncheon. 


72 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


Some say it was built by the Swedish governor, Printz, 
who came to Delaware in 1643 ? but it is probable that 
the builder was John Rising, who was sent to America 
to be lieutenant governor under Printz. When he ar¬ 
rived, he found that Printz had returned to Europe; so 
he became governor in his place. A little later, with 
nine good men, he went up the Delaware River in a 
boat, looking for a good site for a mill. They found 
a waterfall near the river, in what is now known as 
Naaman’s Creek, and there they decided to remain. 



The Old Swedish Blockhouse at Naaman’s Creek, Delaware 


The Indians owned the land, but their sachem, 
Pemi-Nacha, deeded it to the Swedes in July, 1654. 
In October Governor Rising built a blockhouse which 
still stands. The narrow portholes, the nine-foot fire¬ 
place, and the spring-house section are just as they 
were in 1654. 




A BLOCKHOUSE IN DELAWARE 


73 


A year later Peter Stuyvesant, the Dutch governor 
of New Amsterdam, attacked the blockhouse. A three- 
inch cannon ball, which was probably a relic of that 
skirmish, was found in May, 1910, in the heart of a de¬ 
cayed tree. A man who knows about such missiles said 
it was of a pattern used long before the Revolution. 
Many think it was fired from a small cannon by one of 
Stuyvesant’s men. The ball may be seen by those who 
go to the house near by, for it is kept there on the mantel. 

The blockhouse was under fire later on, at least 
twice — in 1671, when it was captured by the Indians, 
and in 1777, when it was taken by the British. At 
that time the property was owned by Colonel Thomas 
Robinson, who was born in the house on March 30,1751. 
A portrait of Colonel Robinson, an officer under Wash¬ 
ington, may be seen in Independence Hall, Philadelphia. 

During the Revolution the Robinson House, as the 
property came to be known in 1738, was the scene of 
exciting events. On October 31, 1777, Washington 
ordered Light Horse Harry Lee to help remove the 
stones from the old mill on the place, to prevent the 
British from obtaining flour there. The stones were 
buried in the orchard. One of them is now the hearth¬ 
stone in the main room of the house, while the other is 
used as a tea table on the lawn at the rear of the house. 

On another occasion a squad of British, seeing several 
American soldiers take refuge in the house, followed 
them into the hall as they disappeared up the stairs. 
In triumph the British guarded the front and rear stairs, 
both of which opened into the main hall; the latter, by 


74 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


a closed-in stairway, which was concealed from the hall 
by a door. Removing their shoes, the Americans stole 
quietly down this shut-in stair, slipped through a 
sliding panel in the wall to the kitchen, and escaped to 
their horses. The panel is still shown to visitors. 

General Washington was often a guest at the house on 
Naaman’s Creek. On one of his visits he was so pleased 
with a seedling-pear that it was named after him. This 
was the origin of the celebrated “Washington pear.” 
While there he used the sofa that is kept in Inde¬ 
pendence Hall. Another famous guest was Mad 
Anthony Wayne. 

22. The Walking Purchase in Pennsylvania 

At Wrightstown, in Bucks County, Pennsylvania, 
there is a curious monument — curious because it does 
not tell of a deed of valor, nor does it relate any story 
similar to those usually responsible for a monument. 

It is a monument to a walk — a walk that was really 
a run. And this walk is famous in the history of Penn¬ 
sylvania, and in the history of the white man’s dealings 
with the Indians. 

The date of the walk was 1737. The heirs of William 
Penn, not satisfied with the lands secured by previous 
treaties with the Indians, looked longingly northward to 
the country near the Pocono Mountains. 

The Lenni Lenape, who claimed the lands for which the 
white men were eager, made a treaty with the “Pro¬ 
prietor of Pennsylvania,” ceding additional lands from 
the Delaware River in lower Bucks County to the 


THE WALKING PURCHASE IN PENNSYLVANIA 75 


northwesterly branch of the Neshaminy; thence “as 
far as a man can go in a day and a half,” and from that 
point to the Delaware once more. 

The Indians supposed that the ground would be cov¬ 
ered in the manner adopted by William Penn in 1682, 
when he walked in a leisurely way in company with In- 


Of THEJ.CN*. 

4NCIEMT OWNWS 

< THcst, $rou£$ PLacco At this ‘ 

‘ THesTAHTlHd POINT X>P Tug v 

VVA1.K" 

SZPTEmEK I % t?3T ' 


*4 


<11 


i.Vi 


The Inscription on the Indian Walk Monument, Wrights- 
town, Pennsylvania 


dians and friends. After the Indian fashion, they would 
often sit down, to smoke or to eat. In a day and a half 
a distance of less than thirty miles would be covered. 

So the Indians thought that the Lehigh River would 
mark the northern end of the walk that was to determine 
the limits of the purchase. They did not dream that 
the stream would be crossed before the trip was much 
more than begun. 

For Thomas and John Penn prepared for what they 
thought of as a contest, by advertising for fast walkers. 
They promised a rich prize to the man who should reach 
the farthest point in a day and a half. Three men 
volunteered : Solomon Jennings, James Yates, and Ed¬ 
ward Marshall. 







76 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


These men practiced walking for the occasion, and 
the way was cleared for them through the wilderness 
beyond the Lehigh. 

The start was made from Wrightstown. The men 
took their stations at the spot marked today by the 
monument. Edward Marshall was determined to out¬ 
walk the others, and he carried a hatchet in his hands, 
that he might swing it from side to side, and so balance 
the action of his legs. He succeeded in passing both 
of his companions by the time he crossed the Lehigh. 
There was a halt of fifteen minutes for dinner, which was 
carried by a man on horseback. At the Wind Gap—* 
an odd break in the mountains — Marshall was given 
a compass, since from that point the trail had not 
been blazed for him. 

Progress was continued the second day until two 
o’clock in the afternoon. By that time Marshall, 
having passed to the right of the Pocono Mountains, 
reached the limit of his progress, completely exhausted. 
The Indian who followed him the second day found 
it difficult to keep him in sight. When a tree was 
marked to indicate' the spot reached, even a stolid 
Indian might well have been dismayed. The distance 
covered was more than one hundred and ten miles! 

But the cunning of the purchasers of the Indian 
lands was not yet at an end. Instead of running a line 
to the Delaware River at the nearest point, they ran it 
at right angles to the walk. This line reached the river 
at the mouth of Lackawaxen Creek. Thus the In¬ 
dians were called upon to yield practically all of their 


IN PHILADELPHIA, IN DAYS OF THE KING 77 


lands on the Delaware within the bounds of Penn¬ 
sylvania. 

When, later, the surveyor-general and others passed 
over the ground, they were four days in covering Mar¬ 
shall’s route. No wonder the Indians were enraged. 
It is said that their treatment on this occasion led to 
their siding against the English in the French and 
Indian War. Their feelings were expressed by one of 
their number, who said of the walk, “ No sit down 
to smoke, no shoot a squirrel, but lun, lun, lun all 
day long.” 

23. In Philadelphia, in the Days of the King 

In these days of free speech and equality it is diffi¬ 
cult to realize that there was a time in America when 
such privileges were unknown — when no one dared 
to speak against the king or any one else in authority. 

A startling record was written thus in Philadelphia 
only two hundred years ago : 

“On Monday at the Court of Admiralty held before 
the Honorable William Asheton, Esq., two men were 
tried for words spoken on the river in contempt of our 
Sovereign Lord King George. The fact being proved, 
the Judge sentenced one to stand in the pillory on 
Wednesday and Saturday next, and to be tied to the 
tail of a cart, and be drawn around two of the city 
squares. ‘And then you shall be whipped on your bare 
back with forty-one lashes,’ the sentence concluded.” 

But before the sentence was pronounced, the judge 
made an address to the prisoner which ended, “I shall 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


conclude what I have said to you with the advice of the 
wisest of men, ‘Curse not the King, no, not in thy 
thoughts; the birds of the air will reveal the secret, 
and that which hath wings will utter the voice.’ ” 

The second man was sentenced “ to wear a paper on 
his breast on the same days, and fined twenty marks 
sterling.” On the paper were to be the words, “I 
stand here for speaking contemptuously against my 
Sovereign Lord King George.” 

A notice published on November 2, 1727, said: 

“October 30 being the birthday of his present 
Majesty, our Sovereign Lord King George the Second, 
the loyalty and dutiful affection of the inhabitants of 
the city, most particularly the merchants, masters of 
vessels, tradesmen, and artificers, who not only live 
by trade, but are in truth the principal fountains of all 
the riches that have been honestly acquired thereby in 
the place, met at the house of William Chancellor, sail- 
maker, where in the garden, twenty-one pieces of 
cannon were commodiously planted, and the mayor of 
the city with other magistrates, officers of the govern¬ 
ment, and in general all the gentlemen of character were 
particularly invited to dinner at the place aforesaid 
by persons deputed for that purpose.” 

After the dinner there were “a ball, bonfire, illumina¬ 
tion, and other demonstrations of joy.” 

In February, 1721, his Excellency William Burnet, 
Esq., the King’s Governor of New York, arrived in 
Philadelphia with several gentlemen of that colony. 
He was received with royal honors. “As he is a gentle- 


IN PHILADELPHIA, IN DAYS OF THE KING 79 



man who deserves all the deference imaginable from His 
Majesty’s subjects belonging to that province, so we can¬ 
not look at him, . . . but with awe and reverence,” 
the local paper said. “ His descent from such a worthy 
prelate and pillar of the church and state of England 
forces our respect. His being chosen by His Sacred 
Majesty King George himself, as a deputy over some 


Graeme Hall, near Philadelphia, Home of Sir William Keith 

part of his subjects here, augments our affection; and 
his own bright character, merited justly in England, 
heightens our estimation. All these . . . circumstances 
must of necessity oblige his colony particularly to be 
ruled by his wise direction, and ourselves to honor him.” 

At another time the Philadelphia Mercury told thus 
of its own royal governor and his activities: 

“On Tuesday night last his Excellency, Sir William 
Keith, Baronet, our Governor, and the gentlemen who 




8o 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


attended him, arrived here from Conestogoe. He went 
there to meet the heads of the Five Nations of Indians, 
who waited his coming to renew the treaties of peace 
and friendship with them. . . . ” 

This report was printed on July 13. On July 20 the 
paper advertised as “Just Published, The Particulars 
of an Indian Treaty at Conestogoe . . . Sold by Andrew 
Bradford,” which indicated with what regal power the 
royal governor of Pennsylvania was endowed. 

It is refreshing to read a record of what professed to 
be real friendship for a man in authority. When 
John Penn was about to sail for London in the ship of 
Captain Budden, the Philadelphia newspaper, voicing 
the good wishes of the community, printed the following 
message: 

May none but fair and pleasant gales 
Attend the ship to fill her sails; 

And may the pilot safely steer 

From rocks, from shoals, from quick-sands clear. 

That so our Penn, on England’s shore, 

May safely set his foot once more. 

May Heaven’s best blessings e’er descend, 

On this our patriot, this our friend. 

24. America’s First Paper and Paper Mills 

The early inhabitants of the American colonies were 
not altogether dependent on Europe for their supplies 
of paper for use in writing and printing. The first 
paper mill in America was built in 1690, and handmade 
paper of good quality was marketed from this establish¬ 
ment, which was owned by William Rittenhouse. 


AMERICA’S FIRST PAPER AND PAPER MILLS 81 


Eleven years later the building was swept away by 
a flood. So William Penn, who knew the poverty 
of the owner, appealed to the colonists of Penn¬ 
sylvania to “give to the sufferers relief and encourage¬ 
ment in their wonderful and commendable employ- 



Home of David Rittenhouse, near Philadelphia 
W ithin a short distance of the site of the first paper mill. 


ment,” because they planned to set up a new mill. 
Traces of this structure are visible on the banks of 
the beautiful Wissahickon Creek, in Philadelphia. 

The ivy-covered ruins of the third paper mill in 
America may be seen near Chester Heights, by those 
who travel on one of the railroads from Philadelphia to 
Baltimore. This factory was founded by Thomas Will- 
cox in 1727. The ivy on the picturesque walls grew 
from a root brought by the founder from his home in 










82 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


Devonshire, England. In this building was made the 
paper used by the colonies for paper money, and for 
many years by the United States Government for its 
bank notes. 

In early mills like this each sheet was made separately, 
by hand, and several days were needed to finish a sheet 
of dry paper. Three men working one day could finish, 
on the average, only about enough paper to print the 
issue of a periodical with a very small circulation. A 
year’s product would hardly be enough to print a single 
issue of a modern publication. 

Most of the early papers were made from rags, but 
in 1726 a factory was built where a special kind for use 
in ledgers and memorandum books was made. An 
early historian says that “this kind of paper was made 
of rotten stone, which is found in several places near,” 
and that the method of cleaning this paper was to 
“throw it into the fire for a short time, when it was 
taken out perfectly fair.” Probably this “rotten 
stone” was asbestos. 

Virginia’s first paper mill was built in 1744 at Wil¬ 
liamsburg, which became the capital of the colony after 
Jamestown was abandoned. This mill was built by 
William Parks, who printed the Virginia Gazette , 
founded by him in 1736. North Carolina, too, boasted 
a manufactory of its own in 1766. In 1775 the Colonial 
Congress of that state offered a premium of £250 to 
any one who would erect another mill “for manufactur¬ 
ing of brown, whited-brown, and good writing paper.” 

But the demand was greater than the supply, and 


AMERICA’S FIRST PAPER AND PAPER MILLS 83 


when a heavy tax was placed on paper imported from 
Great Britain, printers found it hard to get along. 
Sometimes it was necessary to omit an issue of a periodi¬ 
cal because the publishers had no paper. Often an 
issue was printed on paper of various sizes, colors, and 
qualities. When the article was so scarce, it seemed to 
some printers a pity that the margins of newspapers 
should be wasted. The New York Mercury of Feb¬ 
ruary 18, 1765, printed advertisements on the margins. 
Paper damaged in the process of printing was repaired 
for further use. This repair work was done so skill¬ 
fully that it is difficult to detect it in an examination 
of the files of the early newspapers. 

During the early days of the Revolution the paper 
shortage was so acute that writing paper could not 
be secured. Once, in 1775, General Schuyler wrote to 
General Washington : “Excuse these scraps of paper; 
necessity obliges me to use them, having no other 
fit to write on.” John Adams, writing to his wife from 
Philadelphia in April, 1776, said, “I send you, now 
and then, a few sheets of paper, but the article is as 
scarce here as with you.” 

During this time of stress flyleaves were torn from 
books, and old account books were a treasure. One 
historical society has on its shelves a sixteen-volume 
set of a seventeenth-century journal of the British 
House of Commons. On the margins of this diary a 
commanding officer of the Continental Army had writ¬ 
ten his general orders to the troops. In August, 1776, 
General Gates issued a general order asking that “all 


8 4 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


persons possessed of any whited or brown or white 
paper ” should bring it at once to headquarters, and 
promise of ready money was made for all supplies or¬ 
dered there. 

25 . Pioneer Traveling in America 

In 1750 an enterprising business man announced to 
the public that he “had a stage boat well fitted for the 
purpose, which, wind and weather permitting, would 



An Old Toll Gate House, on a Pioneer Stage Road 


leave New York every Wednesday for the ferry at Am¬ 
boy on Thursday;” where, on Friday, a stage wagon 
would be ready to proceed immediately to Bordentown; 
whence they would then take another stage boat to 
Philadelphia. 

He further announced that he would be able to cover 
the ninety miles between New York and Philadelphia in 





PIONEER TRAVELING IN AMERICA 85 

two days, forty-eight hours less than the best time that 
had been made by coach. 

A few months later a rival company entered the field, 
and made a bid for traffic by announcing that their 
boat between New York and Amboy had a cabin in 
which were a table and other luxuries. 

In 1750 one company included in its advertisement 
this statement: 

“It is hoped, that as these stages are attended with 
a considerable expense, for the better accommodating 
passengers, that they will merit the favor of the public ; 
and whoever will be pleased to favor them with their 
custom, shall be kindly used, and have due attendance 
given them.” 

At this time rivalry between stage lines was keen, 
if we are to judge from an advertisement which ap¬ 
peared in a Philadelphia paper : 

Philadelphia, November n, 1756. 
Bordentown Stage Continued: 

Joseph Borden’s stage boat, Joseph Canida, Master, attends 
at the Crooked-Billet Wharf every Monday and Tuesday, and 
his shallop, Daniel Harrison, Master, at the same place every 
Friday and Saturday. Stage wagons attend the said boats, the 
stage boats at Amboy commanded by Aaron Edwards. As to 
the owners of the Burlington stage boasting of their advantages 
being superior to mine, I shall not take the trouble to make reply 
to them, because the public by this time is the best judge of our 
stages and their advantages; only shall just note the last clause 
of their advertisement, that is; they say we are one tide more 
upon the water than they are; which in fact, is saying we are 
always two tides upon one passage. Well done, brother-ad- 


86 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


venturers, that is a large one. All gentlemen and ladies that 
please to favor me with their business, may depend upon the ut¬ 
most care and dispatch, of their humble servant, 

Joseph Borden. 

In Belknap’s history of New Hampshire is quoted a 
description of a journey between the cities when the 
length of time taken to make the trip had been reduced 
to sixteen hours: 

“Between three and four in the morning we set off 
in the stage, rode nine miles to Bergen Neck, and then 
crossed a ferry which brought us to Woodbridge. Just 
before we reached the second ferry, we perceived the 
dawn of day, and when we were two miles from it, 
the sun rose; so that we had ridden sixteen miles and 
crossed two ferries before sunrise, besides shifting 
horses twice. The third stage brought us to Bruns¬ 
wick, where we breakfasted. We crossed the Raritan 
in a scow, open at both ends to receive and discharge 
the carriage without unharnessing or dismounting, and 
the scow was pulled across the river by a rope. We 
passed through Princeton about noon, and got to 
Trenton for dinner; then passed the Delaware in 
another scow, which was navigated only by set¬ 
ting-poles ; drove thirty miles over a plain, level 
country at a great rate, and arrived in Philadelphia 
at sunset.” 

The introduction of railroads made possible more 
traveling. But not everybody looked on the change 
with pleasure. In 1830 this complaint appeared : 

“ I see what will be the effect of it; that it will set the 


THE STORY OF MASON AND DIXON’S LINE 87 


whole world a-gadding. Twenty miles an hour, sir! 
Why, you will not be able to keep an apprentice boy at 
his work ! Every Saturday evening he must have a trip 
to Ohio to spend a Sunday with his sweetheart. Grave, 
plodding citizens will be flying about like comets. . . . 
All conceptions will be exaggerated by the magnifi¬ 
cent notions of distance. Only a hundred miles off! 
Tut, nonsense, I’ll step across, madam, and bring your 
fan ! . . . And then, sir, there will be barrels of pork, 
cargoes of flour, chaldrons of coal, and even lead and 
whiskey, and such-like sober things that have always 
been used to slow traveling — whisking away like a sky¬ 
rocket. It will upset all the gravity of the nation. . . . 
Upon the whole, sir, it is a pestilential, topsy-turvy, 
harum-scarum whirligig. Give me the old solemn, 
straightforward, regular Dutch canal — three miles an 
hour for expresses, and two-rod, jog-trot journeys —• 
with a yoke of oxen for heavy loads. I go for beasts of 
burden. It . . . suits a moral and religious people 
better. None of your hop, skip, and jump whimsies 
for me.” 

But probably this letter was written as a joke. 

26 . The Story of Mason and Dixon’s Line 

What is Mason and Dixon’s Line? Where is it? 
Why was it surveyed ? Many people, remembering the 
part that it played in discussions in the later days of 
slavery, when it marked the line between the slave 
states and the free states, and later, during the Civil 
War, between the North and the South, are apt to 


88 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


think that it was surveyed in the early nineteenth cen¬ 
tury. Yet it dates from before the Revolution, and 
when it was fixed, another dispute that was at times 
quite bitter, was ended. 

This dispute began in the seventeenth century. Lord 
Baltimore claimed that the grant of Maryland, made in 
1632, extended to forty degrees north latitude. William 
Penn, to whom a princely territory was granted fifty years 
later, asserted that his land extended far into the 
region claimed by Lord Baltimore. He and his friends 
urged that the boundary of Pennsylvania was to be¬ 
gin at the beginning of the fortieth degree, or thirty- 
nine degrees, and that the Maryland patent extended 
north to a line “ which lieth under the fortieth degree 
of north latitude from the equinoctial.” The fact that 
Philadelphia, Penn’s capital, was within the territory 
claimed by Maryland explains why Penn was eager for 
settlement. 

The difference of opinion — which was due in the 
beginning to the ignorance of America’s geography by 
the kings who made grants with such lavish hands — 
was made still greater by the purchase, by the heirs of 
William Penn, of “the three lower counties on the 
Delaware.” 

When the dispute was at its height, the defenders of 
the Penn claim published in England a little book, of 
which only six complete copies in the original edition 
are known to exist today, entitled A Short Account 
of the first settlement of the Provinces of Virginia , 
Maryland , New York , New Jersey , and Pennsylvania. 


THE STORY OF MASON AND DIXON’S LINE 89 

The first chapter, devoted to Virginia, began in the 
stately English of the day: 

“The famous Sir Walter Raleigh, having proposed to 
other great men of his time to join with him in an ex¬ 
pedition for the discovery of parts then unknown in the 
West Indies, obtained letters patent from Queen Eliza¬ 
beth, of ever glorious memory, bearing date the 25th 
of March, 1584, for turn¬ 
ing these discoveries to 
their own advantage.” 

After telling of the voy¬ 
age to “the Islet Roan¬ 
oke,” the book proceeded 
to speak of the first settle¬ 
ment of Maryland by the 
English, when a voyage of 
discovery and colonization 
was made by Lord Baltimore. As a result of this ex¬ 
pedition, a settlement was made at “ the Indian town 
called Yamaco, to which they gave the name of St. 
Mary’s.” 

As time passed, the settlements were pushed up the 
Chesapeake, “much higher up the bay aforesaid than 
was within his Lordship’s bounds.” The settlers above 
submitted to Maryland’s government, “either think¬ 
ing that government better than none, or, what is more 
likely, being persuaded by his Lordship’s agents, that 
all that country, even as far as the Swedish and Dutch 
Settlements [in what are now Delaware and Pennsyl¬ 
vania] were within his Lordship’s grant.” 



Boundary Stone on Mason and 
Dixon’s Line 




go 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


This was the origin of the dispute, so the document 
asserts : “ And to some such apprehension or persuasion 
as this it hath happened that the bounds of Maryland 
to the northwest have never been with any tolerable 
exactness determined, either by our own or foreign 
geographers.” 

The anonymous document concludes: 

“ A fair inquiry into bounds and titles of land is what 
the proprietors of Pennsylvania need not fear; accord¬ 
ing to my humble opinion they will be great gainers 
though they should lose all the three lower counties 
as they are called, if they could gain all the rest that 
is within their bounds; and then Maryland being re¬ 
duced within due bounds would give less disturbance 
than it lately has done to the meek people of the prov¬ 
ince of Pennsylvania.” 

American surveyors spent three years in surveying 
the line between Delaware and Maryland. There 
was question as to the accuracy of the measurements, so 
Charles Mason and Jeremiah Dixon were brought from 
England to complete the task. This they did, after 
verifying the work of the American surveyors, and 
finding it correct. 

The drawing of the line was made more difficult by an 
earlier provision for a semi-circular northern boundary 
for Delaware. This seemed to make necessary a se¬ 
ries of complicated calculations. From 1763 to 1767 
the two men continued their labors. When they went 
back to England, they had surveyed the boundary for 
244 miles west of the Delaware. A boundary stone 


THE MAKING OF WINSTON-SALEM 


9i 

was placed at the end of each mile, and every fifth 
stone bore on one side the arms of Baltimore, and on 
the other the arms of Penn. 

The line was completed in 1782, by American sur¬ 
veyors. Parts of it have been surveyed since, and the 
accuracy of the earlier lines has been established. 

27 . The Making of Winston-Salem, North Carolina 

When the name of Lord Cornwallis is spoken in the 
same breath with the word “defeat,” it is natural to think 
of Yorktown. But there was an earlier and very im¬ 
portant defeat — that at Guilford Court House, North 
Carolina. Here General Greene proved the superior 
in a battle that was one of a series of events which led 
John Adams to write to Benjamin Franklin, “I think 
the southern states will have the honor, after all, of 
putting us in the right way of finishing the business 
of the war.” 

Almost directly west of the battle ground in Guilford 
County that did so much to turn the tide of the Revolu¬ 
tion, in the midst of a prosperous and picturesque coun¬ 
try, is Winston-Salem, a thriving city whose roman¬ 
tic history goes back a generation before the days of 
Greene and Cornwallis. 

In the fall of 1753 the Moravian Bishop Span gen- 
berg, looking for a home where his followers could live 
in peace and labor for the Indians, came to the North 
Carolina wilderness, journeying from Bethlehem, Penn¬ 
sylvania. Charmed by the region of which Winston- 
Salem is now the metropolis, he bought a section about 



92 WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 

ten miles square, and arranged for the residence of hun¬ 
dreds of Moravians in what was later called Wachovia. 

The story of the journey of the first inhabitants from 
their Pennsylvania home is a record of heroism. After 
crossing the Susquehanna and the Potomac they came 
down the Shenandoah to Augusta Court House — now 


Old Salem Tavern, Winston-Salem, North Carolina 
B uilt, 1784. 

Staunton. Thus they became forerunners in a score of 
movements to and fro in this favored region, each of 
which has had its part in the history of the nation. 
The way became ever more difficult as they followed 
the course of the Mayo to the Dan and on to the border 
of Wachovia, their promised land. 







THE MAKING OF WINSTON-SALEM 


93 


That sounds simple enough. Very likely such a jour-, 
ney would be simple today. But in those days of 
unbroken forest and unbridged streams, progress was 
far from easy. The hills were too steep for the heavily 
laden wagons, and it was necessary for the men to carry 
the loads up the slopes while the empty vehicles followed 
carefully. Even the descent was a problem, which 
was solved, however, when the resourceful pioneers 
devised a way to hold back the loaded wagons ; locked 
wheels were assisted by a dragging tree cut from the 
forest and fastened to the rear of each wagon. 

The short, rainy days of November, 1753, came before 
the long journey was done. Cold and hunger added to 
the burden of the pilgrims. But all hardships were 
soon forgotten in the joy of making the wilderness 
fruitful. 

The first towns were Bethabara and Bethania, which 
still survive. In 1766 Salem was founded. Soon it 
was the center of primitive manufactures that fed the 
remarkable wagon commerce directed toward regions 
as far away as Chesterton, South Carolina. 

Salem was a year old when Governor Tryon turned 
his steps curiously to Wachovia, but he was entertained 
at Bethabara. While there he urged the sending of a 
representative to the legislature, and formed a high 
opinion of the colony within a colony. Later, when 
discontented Regulators, defeated at the Alamance, in 
their efforts to oppose him, fled to Wachovia for refuge, 
he refused to take vengeance on the Moravians, though 
there were not lacking those who questioned their 


94 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


loyalty. Under guard of three thousand soldiers, he 
watched the trial of the fugitives, many of whom took 
the oath of allegiance and were pardoned. 

In 1849 Salem gained as neighbor the town of Winston, 
founded as the county seat of the new county of For¬ 
sythe, on fifty-one acres sold for the purpose by the 
Moravians at four dollars per acre. Both towns grew 
rapidly, and in 1903 they became Winston-Salem, a 
prosperous modern city. 

28 . Two Memorials in Savannah, Georgia 

Early in the eighteenth century a wealthy man in 
London was looking for a missing friend. For many 
days he looked in vain, but at last he came to the place 
where debtors were imprisoned. There he found the 
man he sought in the vilest surroundings, dying of small¬ 
pox, which he had contracted in the foul prison. 

The sight led the man who had found his friend to 
decide to give himself to making life more bearable for 
unfortunate people. He was famous in England, but 
he would leave his home and his friends, in order to 
make a home for the persecuted Protestants and the 
poor of Europe. 

At length he found the way to do what he wished. 
After securing a grant of lands, in the name of “The 
Trustees for Establishing the Colony of Georgia in Amer¬ 
ica/’ he set sail on the ship Anne , late in the year 
1732, bound for the unknown southern coast of America. 
The little company with him, who were to begin the last 
of the colonies in America, were eager to do their part 


TWO MEMORIALS IN SAVANNAH 


95 


to make a success of the dream of their leader, James 
Edward Oglethorpe. 

George II, who favored the grant, was not so much 
interested in this man’s plan to help the unfortunate 
as he was in the thought that he would establish a 



In Georgia as Oglethorpe Found It 
L ive oaks and Spanish moss. 


colony to stand in the way of the Spanish in Florida, and 
the French in Louisiana, who were feared by the colonies 
on the seaboard — especially by South Carolina. 

The first settlement was made at Savannah in Feb¬ 
ruary, 1733. An early writer has told us : 

“ They landed the bedding and other little necessaries, 
and all the people lay on shore. The ground they en¬ 
camped upon is the edge of the river where the quay is 
intended to be. Until the 7th was spent in making 
a crane, and unloading the goods; which done, Mr. 
Oglethorpe divided the people; employing part in clear- 




9 6 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


ing the land for seed, part in beginning the palisade, 
and the remainder in felling the trees where the town is 
to stand. 

“ On the 9th Mr. Oglethorpe and Colonel Bull marked 
out the square, the streets, and fifty lots for houses of 
the town; and the first house which was ordered to be 
made of clapboards, was begun that day. 

“The town lies on the south side of the river Savan¬ 
nah, upon a plateau on the top of a hill. . . . The 
river washes the foot of the hill, which stretches along 
the side of it about a mile, and from a terrace forty feet 
perpendicular above high water. 

“ From the quay, looking eastward, you may discern 
the river as far as the islands of the sea; and westward 
one may see it wind through the woods above six miles. 
The river is one thousand feet wide, the water fresh, and 
deep enough for ships of seventy tons to come up close 
to the side of the quay.” 

For ten years Governor Oglethorpe gave his best 
thought and work to the colony, which proved a suc¬ 
cess so far as the plan of the king was concerned, though 
it was a failure in carrying out all that the leader had 
in mind. 

In 17 53 the charter of the trustees expired, and Geor¬ 
gia became a royal province. General Oglethorpe had 
returned to Europe ten years earlier, the victim of those 
who found fault with his methods and who ques¬ 
tioned his honesty. He had spent a large sum on the 
colony, but he did not regret this, although he was not 
repaid by the government which took over control. 


TWO MEMORIALS IN SAVANNAH 


97 


There was no real monument to the man who had done 
so much for Georgia until a bronze statue, on a pedes¬ 
tal of granite, was dedicated in Chippewa Square, in 
Savannah, in November, 1910. The bronze figure faces 
toward the south and west, where the enemies of the 
colony lived. The inscription on the tablet below reads : 

Erected by the State of Georgia, the 
City of Savannah, and the Patriotic Societies 
of the State, to the memory of the 
Great Soldier, Eminent Statesman, and Famous 
Philanthropist, General James Edward 
Oglethorpe, who, in this city, on the 12th 
day of February, a.d. 1733, founded and es¬ 
tablished the Colony of Georgia. 

It is fitting that in Court House Square, not far away, 
there is a monument to the man who was one of the most 
loyal helpers of General Oglethorpe from the beginning 
of his experiment — Chief Tomo-chi-chi, a leader of the 
Creeks. He was more than ninety years old when the 
first colonists landed, but for six years he helped by his 
wise counsel and his great influence the man whom he 
learned to love. The spirit of his relation with the col¬ 
onists was shown in his famous speech when he made his 
treaty with Oglethorpe. After giving to the leader a 
buffalo skin with the head and feathers of an eagle 
painted inside, he said : “Here is a little present. The 
eagle stands for speed and the buffalo means strength. 
The English are as swift as the bird and as strong as the 
beast. Like the first, they fly from the utmost parts 
of the earth over the vast sea; and, like the second, 


9 8 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


nothing can withstand them. The feathers of the 
eagle are soft, and mean love; the buffalo skin is warm, 
and means protection. Therefore, love and protect our 
little families. ” 

When Tomo-chi-chi died, on October 15, 1739, he 
was buried in Percival Square, now Court House 
Square, when six prominent men, of whom Oglethorpe 
was one, acted as pallbearers. Minute guns were fired 
from the battery, as a part of the funeral service. 

General Oglethorpe’s plan to raise a monument to his 
friend was not carried out, and it was left for the Georgia 
Society of Colonial Dames of the Revolution to place 
a great irregular block of granite — a fitting emblem 
of the character of the Indian —- on the spot where he 
was buried. The inscription, on a bronze plate, reads, 
in part: 

In memory of Tomo-chi-chi, Mico of the Yama- 
craws, the Companion of Oglethorpe, and the 
Friend and Ally of the Colony of Georgia 
1739-1899 

29 . Frederica, on St. Simon’s Island, Georgia 

Less than three years after the colony of Georgia 
was chartered, General Oglethorpe, the leader of the 
colony, took workmen from Savannah to St. Simon’s 
Island, off the coast of Georgia. This place is famous to¬ 
day chiefly because it is one of the islands which pro¬ 
duce sea-island cotton, the finest cotton grown. 

The purpose of the company was to lay out the town 
of Frederica, in preparation for the landing of colonists 


FREDERICA, GEORGIA 


99 


who had just arrived from England. A book published 
in London in 1744 tells of the work done. 

After burning the tall grass on the bluff which was 
to be the site of the town, preparations were begun by 
“ digging the ground three feet deep, and throwing up 
the earth on each side by way of bank; and a roof raised 
upon crutches with ridge¬ 
pole and rafters, nailing 
small poles across, and 
thatching the whole with 
palmetto leaves. Mr. Ogle¬ 
thorpe afterwards laid out 
several booths without dig¬ 
ging underground, which 
were also covered with 
palmetto leaves; to lodge 
the families of the colony 
when they should come up. 

Each of these booths was 
between thirty and forty 
feet long, and upward of twenty feet wide. . . .” 

Next day Mr. Oglethorpe “began to make out a fort 
. . . and taught the men how to dig the ditch, and raise 
the turf and rampart. This day and the following day 
were spent in finishing the houses and tracing out the 
fort.” 

Near the town General Oglethorpe built the only 
“house he ever owned in Georgia.” 

On March 8 the colonists came to the place partly pre¬ 
pared for them. The men worked so diligently after 



On St. Simon’s Island, Georgia 

Not far from this tree stood Fort 
Frederica. 




IOO 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


their arrival that by March 23 the fort was almost 
finished, and a battery of cannon commanded the river. 
The streets of the town were laid out. “The main street 
. . . was twenty-five yards wide. Each freeholder had 
sixty feet in front, by ninety feet in depth, upon the 
High Street, for the house and garden ; but those which 
fronted the river had but thirty feet in front, by sixty 
feet in depth. . . . Each family had a bower of pal¬ 
metto leaves. . . . These palmetto bowers were very 
convenient shelters, being tight in the hardest rains; 
they were about twenty feet long and fourteen feet 
wide, and in regular rows looked very pretty. . . . 
The whole appeared like a camp.” 

The location was beautiful. The town was in the 
midst of an Indian field, of thirty or forty acres of 
cleared land. The bluff on which the fort was built was 
about ten feet above high water. Beautiful forests of 
live oak, water oaks, laurel, bay, cedar, sweet fern, 
sassafras, and vines were near. Deer, rabbits, raccoons, 
squirrels, wild turkeys, turtle-doves, reedbirds, mock¬ 
ing birds, and ricebirds were everywhere. In later 
years the planters who lived on the island, as well as the 
people who came from the mainland to enjoy the sum¬ 
mers, rejoiced in the healthful, pleasant surroundings. 

The fortifications of the towm were strengthened from 
time to time, for it was to be the chief defense against 
the Spaniards who held Florida. Trouble from their 
neighbors was expected during many years, for the 
Spaniards wished to destroy the English colonists near 
their possessions. 


FREDERICA, GEORGIA 


IOI 


After the declaration of war between England and 
Spain, in October, 1739, Oglethorpe made up his mind 
to lead an expedition against the enemy at St. Augus¬ 
tine. He captured two forts near the Spanish capital. 
The assault on the fort at St. Augustine failed, as well as 
the siege which followed, because of the coming to the 
enemy of reenforcements from Havana. 

Then Oglethorpe returned to Georgia with his men, 
and decided to trouble the enemy in every way possible, 
and to be on guard against attack. Soon it became 
evident that a Spanish invasion was to be attempted. 

ButonJuly30,1742, Oglethorpe wrote, from Frederica, 
a report in which he said, triumphantly, “The Spanish 
invasion, which has a long time threatened the colony, 
Georgia, and all North America, has at last fallen upon 
us, and God hath been our deliverance.” Then he 
told how a great fleet — of fifty-six vessels, with seven 
or eight thousand men — had sailed from Havana. 
After stopping at St. Augustine, the fleet came on to 
Georgia. The story of their attempts to pass the de¬ 
fenses, of the damage they did, and of the final victory 
of the Georgians, is thrilling. An armed force of be¬ 
tween six and seven hundred men, assisted by a few 
small vessels, put to flight an army of nearly five thou¬ 
sand Spanish troops, supported by a powerful fleet. 

A loyal citizen of Georgia once said of this victory: 
“The memory of the defense of St. Simon’s Island and 
the southern frontier is one of the proudest in the annals 
of Georgia. Then was the existence of the colony per¬ 
petuated. Had success attended the demonstration 


102 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


against Frederica, the enemy would have advanced 
upon the more northern strongholds.” 

The governors of New York, New Jersey, Pennsyl¬ 
vania, Maryland, Virginia, and North Carolina wrote 
to General Oglethorpe thanking him for the service he 
had rendered to all the British-American provinces. 

Some years later the town and fort were abandoned, 
and fell into decay. What was left of the place was 
destroyed by the British in 1778; but it had ceased to 
be of importance when the Spaniards no longer threat¬ 
ened the colonies. 

A bronze tablet set on the wall of the old fort tells 
of the last remnant of the stronghold that played such a 
wonderful part in the early history of the colonies. 

30 . The Romance of Ebenezer, Georgia 

From early days Georgia was the refuge of oppressed 
people. Among those who were welcomed there were 
thirty thousand Salzburgers, Protestants who came 
from Germany. The trustees of the colony of Georgia 
not only invited them to the new land, but promised 
to furnish transportation to the first party of immi¬ 
grants, and to give to each fifty acres of land. 

The first party landed at Charleston, South Carolina, 
and met General Oglethorpe, from Georgia. The 
Commissary of the company said in his account of 
the trip: 

“Mr. Oglethorpe showed me a plan of Georgia, and 
gave me the liberty to choose a settlement for the Salz¬ 
burgers, either near the sea, or further in the continent. 


THE ROMANCE OF EBENEZER, GEORGIA 103 


I accordingly accepted his favor, and chose a place 
twenty-one miles from the town of Savannah, and 
thirty miles from the sea, where there were rivers, little 
hills, clear brooks, cool springs, a fertile soil, and plenty 
of grass.” 

March 10, 1734, saw the ship enter the Savannah 
River. The Commissary wrote : 

“The river is in some places broader than the Rhine, 
and from sixteen to twenty-five feet deep; and abounds 
with oysters, sturgeons, and other fish. Its banks were 
clothed with fresh grass ; and a little beyond were seen 
woods, old as the Creation, resounding with the music 
of birds, who sing the praise of their Creator.” 

The welcome given at Savannah by the magistrates, 
the citizens, and the Indians was hearty; they were 
“received with all possible demonstrations of joy, 
friendship, and civility.” 

The Commissary went to the site of the new settle¬ 
ment with General Oglethorpe, the Speaker of the 
Assembly, and two Indian hunters, supplied by King 
Tomo-chi-chi, as well as the King’s War Captain. In 
his journal he says: 

“ If you ask how a country that is covered with wood 
and cut with rivers and morasses, is passable, I must 
acquaint you that, once the colony was settled, the 
ways were marked by barking of the trees, to show 
where the roads should go, and where the rivers were 
passable. After passing through a morass covered with 
cane, we came to an unfordable river, through which 
the Indians swam on horses, and we crossed upon a 


104 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


great tree, cut down for that purpose. The tree was 
cut down so as to lie across the river ... for a 
bridge.” 

When the party reached the site of Ebenezer — 
named “in remembrance that God has brought us 
hither ” — it was found that the soil was rather barren 
and unattractive. Yet so glad was the Commissary to 
reach the new home, that he was eloquent in speaking 
of the land inclosed between two rivers, tributaries 
of the Savannah; of “the sweet zephyrs” that pre¬ 
served “a delicious coolness,” of the “fine meadows, 
in which a great quantity of hay might be made with 
very little pains”; of the woods, the herbs, the fertile 
soil, and the game. 

A day after the return to Savannah, General Ogle¬ 
thorpe sailed for Europe. The journal says: 

“ And then he went away- All the people were so con¬ 
cerned at it, that they could not refrain from tears, 
when they saw him go, who was their benefactor and 
their father; . . . they were the more afflicted, that 
the fatigues and difficulties of so long a voyage left 
them very small hopes of seeing him again.” 

A company of nine Salzburgers were sent from 
Savannah to prepare the way for the others. When 
the Commissary went to see about their work, he com¬ 
mended them because “ they had erected two good tents, 
made of the bark of trees, one of which was forty feet 
long, and had cut down abundance of trees, in order to 
breathe a free air; and beside all that, they were obliged 
in the greatest heats, almost every day, to walk to 


THE ROMANCE OF EBENEZER, GEORGIA 105 

Abercorn, which is twelve miles; and to carry provi¬ 
sion upon their backs.” 

When the remainder of the company arrived, bridge¬ 
making and road-building were begun. They also 
made sledges. “I caused horses to be put to them, 
and we brought provisions to Ebenezer,” wrote the 
Commissary. And on April 19, two weeks after the 
beginning of the road, he said, “This day the Salz¬ 
burgers finished the way for carriages; which surprised 
the English mightily, to see they had composed it in 
so short a time; having built seven bridges on several 
rivers, besides cutting the thickets and trees that were 
in the way; and this for the length of twelve miles, 
from Abercorn to Ebenezer.” 

The coming of other immigrants so increased the 
population of the town that it was felt a more desirable 
location, both for health and for crops, should be found. 
So all their improvements were sacrificed, and the in¬ 
habitants moved to a high ridge near the Savannah 
River. Two years were required for the change. The 
location of Old Ebenezer was in Effingham County; 
New Ebenezer was twenty-five miles above Savannah. 

When General Oglethorpe proposed that silk be 
grown in Georgia, and secured silkworm eggs from 
Italy and the services of several Italians as instructors, 
the people of Ebenezer were glad to help him. The new 
industry prospered so well that in 1735 Queen Caroline 
of England wore a robe of Georgia silk. Encouraged by 
this progress, each inhabitant of Ebenezer was given a 
mulberry tree, on the leaves of which the silkworm 


106 WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 

fed. In 1747 Ebenezer provided half of all the silk 
made in Georgia. 

Until a few years before the Revolution, the produc¬ 
tion was continued, and was abandoned only because 
the return for the labor was too small. But for the 
Salzburgers, the experiment would have been given 
up long before. 

During the Revolution, when the British captured 
Savannah, they went on to Ebenezer, and fortified the 
town. Some of the people took the oath of loyalty to 
Great Britain, but many others remained loyal to the 
colonies. The latter lost all their property. 

After the Revolution, the town gradually became less 
important. In 1855 only two houses were standing. 
Soon these also were gone; nothing was left but the 
Jerusalem Church, which stands alone. This brick 
building, erected in 1769, is in a silent waste. In the 
churchyard are graves almost as old as the colony of 
Georgia. On April 21, 1911, a bronze tablet was 
placed on the walls of the church by the Georgia 
Society of Colonial Dames, to commemorate the colony 
and its history. 

31. Coweta, Alabama, Where the Power of France 
Was Checked 

Early in the seventeenth century the French power 
in the Mississippi Valley was at its height. Not only 
were the French in possession of the Mississippi, but 
they claimed the whole of the basin of that river because 
La Salle had explored it. 



COWETA, ALABAMA 107 

It was the dream of France to unite her provinces on 
the St. Lawrence with the colonies on the Mississippi. 
A part of the plan was the building of a series of forts 
along the Mississippi. Friends were to be made of 
Indian tribes, that they might be allies in case of war, 
and helpers in time of peace. Trade, both in furs and 
in miscellaneous supplies, was to be increased, that the 


' From an Old Print 

Oglethorpe and the Indians 

natives might be led to feel their dependence on the 
French. 

One of the leaders in working out this plan was De 
Bienville, French governor of the province of Louisiana. 
He had built forts in New Orleans, so commanding the 
entrances to the Mississippi, and he had sent his soldiers 
as far as Mobile, where the tricolor of France was flung 
to the breeze. He claimed for his country a large 






108 WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 

part of the grant England had made to Georgia — a 
rather vague grant, that extended from the Atlantic 
westward to the Mississippi; and he was active in per¬ 
suading the Indians to agree with him in these claims. 

The Muscogee, or Creek, Confederacy controlled the 
country in dispute, and those who could win their alle¬ 
giance would be able to take the lead in the region now 
included within the bounds of Alabama and Mississippi. 
General Oglethorpe, who, in 1738, had conferred with 
four chiefs of the Creeks, realized that the time had 


come to take further action. He 
saw his chance when the time drew 
near for the annual council fire of 
the tribes in the Creek Confed¬ 
eracy. This was to be held in 
August, 1739, at the Indian town, 
Coweta, on the Alabama side of 
the Chattahoochee, close to the 
site of Columbus, Georgia. 



Signature to an Indian 
Treaty 


On July 17, 1739, with a small company, he began the 
difficult journey from Savannah, through three hundred 
miles of forest wilderness. The intense heat of summer 
made such travel dangerous. Then he had to beware 
of unfriendly Indians, as well as of the deadly air from 
the swamps. 

But he made his way safely to the appointed place. 
There he met the representatives of twenty thousand 
Indians. These messengers were attracted by his 
winsome personality, and believed in his promises. 
They were sure that all was well with those who trusted 


COWETA, ALABAMA 


109 

him — for they had heard about him from other 
Indian tribes. They did not hesitate to make a treaty 
of alliance and friendship with the man who had set 
himself against the claims and efforts of France and 
Spain in the New World. 

August 21, 1739, was a notable date in the history of 
the South and of the entire United States; for on that 
day was made the treaty by which the Indians recognized 
the claims of England to the lands from the Atlantic to 
the Mississippi. Historians say that this treaty was not 
only of the greatest importance in limiting the power 
of France at the time, but had its bearing also on the 
decay of the power hostile to Great Britain, and on its 
death upon the Plains of Abraham, at Quebec. 


CHAPTER III 


GLIMPSES OF FRANCE AND SPAIN IN AMERICA 

32 . Old Fort Marion, St. Augustine, Florida 

In St. Augustine, Florida, there are at least three 
old houses, about each of which visitors are- told that 
it is “ the oldest house in the United States.” One 
owner claims that his house was built in 1516 —forty- 
nine years before the first permanent settlement was 
made on the site of what is now St. Augustine! 

The probability is that the oldest house in the city 
is that occupied by the local historical society, and that 
it was built in 1565. It is full of relics of the early days 
of Spanish rule in the region where the Indians had a 
town when Ponce de Leon landed there in 1512 and 
again in 1521. When Pedro Menendez de Avil6s took 
possession in the name of Philip II of Spain, in 
1565, he named the place St. Augustine. 

In 1763, when England exchanged Havana for 
Florida, St. Augustine was thus spoken of: “ Running 
along the shore at the foot of a pleasant hill adorned 
with trees, down by the seaside standeth the church 
and monastery of St. Augustine. The best part of the 
town is called St. John’s Fort. The town is also for¬ 
tified with bastions and with cannon. On the north 
and south, outside the walls, are the Indian towns.” 


IIO 


FORT MARION, ST. AUGUSTINE, FLORIDA hi 


England was still proprietor during the early years 
of the War of the Revolution. When news of the 
adoption of the Declaration of Independence was re¬ 
ceived, Samuel Adams and John Hancock were burned 



The Old City Gates, St. Augustine, Florida 


in effigy in the plaza, which is still the central feature 
of the little city. 

Down on this plaza is the old cathedral, one of whose 
four bells dates back to 1682. A little farther away 
is the post office, which was built in 1591. In it the 
Spanish governors had their residence. One block 
from their house was the king’s bakery, which is still 
standing. 








112 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


Among the most venerable monuments in the city 
is the gateway, last relic of the old city wall, and Fort 
Marion, which was begun as Fort San Marco in 1665, 
on the site of a still earlier fort. It was completed 
in 1756, after $30,000,000 had been spent. No wonder 
the king of Spain said, “ Its curtain and bastions must 
be made of solid silver. ” 

The story of the ninety years of building is briefly 
told in the half-defaced inscription over the entrance: 

Don Ferdinand VI, being King of Spain and the Field 
Marshal Don Alonzo Fernando Hereda, being Governor and 
Captain General of this place, San Augustine of Florida, and 
its province, this fort was finished in the year 1756. The works 
were directed by the Captain Engineer Don Pedro de Brogas y 
Garay. 

The beginning of the original fort at St. Augustine 
was made by Menendez in the great dwelling of the 
Indian chief. He called it San Juan de Pinos. In 
1586 Sir Francis Drake approached the town and at¬ 
tacked the fort. The story of the destruction of the 
building was told by one of the members of the expe¬ 
dition : 

“ We descried on the shore a place built like a beacon 
which was indeed a scaffold upon four long masts 
raised on end. ... We might discover over against 
us a fort which newly had been built by the Spaniards, 
and some mile or thereabout above the fort was a 
little town or village without walls, built of wooden 
houses as the plot doth plainly show. We forthwith 
prepared to have ordnance for the battery; and one 


FORT MARION, ST. AUGUSTINE, FLORIDA 113 


piece was a little before the enemy planted, and the 
first shot being made by the Lieutenant General him¬ 
self . . . struck through 
the ensign, as we after¬ 
wards understood by a 
Frenchman which came 
unto us from them. One 
shot more was then made 
which struck the foot of 
the fort wall which was all 
massive timber of great 
trees like masts. ” 

The fort destroyed that 
day by the English was 
replaced, but in 1665 it 
was destroyed once more, 
this time by buccaneers, 
who were really only gen¬ 
tleman pirates. Then came 
the fort that still frowns 
down on the harbor. 

This most perfect speci¬ 
men of a fortress of long 
ago, with its bastion and 

. , . Ancient Watch Tower 

tower, its plaza, its case- 

. . Old Fort Marion, St. Augustine, Florida. 

ments, powder magazine 

and dungeon, its moat and hot-shot oven, is a polygon 
with four equal sides. The moat is dry, and the en¬ 
trance— protected by a barbican, as the outwork was 
called — is by a bridge across the moat and then into 






H 4 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


the fort by a drawbridge. Over the drawbridge go 
throngs of visitors to this fortress, now owned by the 
United States. 

Many think the most pleasing feature of the grim 
stronghold is the great wall of one of the dark rooms 
where the light flashed by the guide shows, from the 
curve of the roof to the floor, a clinging mass of maiden¬ 
hair fern that completely hides the wall. How it came 
there, how it began to grow, who can tell ? 

33 . Fort San Carlos de Barrancas, Pensacola, Florida 

If the first expedition sent to West Florida by Spain 
had made a permanent settlement, Pensacola, and not 
St. Augustine, would have been the oldest city in the 
country. For in 1559, when Luis de Valesca was told 
to make a settlement in Florida, he sent a company of 
more than one thousand soldiers and settlers to Pensa¬ 
cola Bay. The leader, Tristan de Luna, named the 
harbor Santa Maria, and built a fort near the site of 
the present Fort San Carlos. 

For two years the colonists remained by the blue 
waters where they looked out on low-lying Santa Rosa 
Island; but they decided that it was not a good place 
to make a living, so they went away, some to what is 
now South Carolina, others home to Spain. 

The bay had attracted visitors a few years earlier. 
Possibly Ponce de Leon visited it in 1513. In 1528 
Pamfilio de Narvaez was there for a time, while in 
1540 Maldonado led De Soto’s fleet into the harbor. 

Not until 1696 did permanent settlers find their way 


FORT SAN CARLOS DE BARRANCAS 


US 

to what has been called the best harbor on the Gulf 
of Mexico. Then Don Andres d’Arriola built Fort 
San Carlos six miles south of Pensacola, near the mouth 
of the bay. He called the settlement Pensacola. 

During the next 166 years, four different countries 
ruled in startling succession: first Spain, then France, 



Interior of Fort San Carlos, Pensacola, Florida 


then Spain, then France, then Spain, then Great Britain, 
then Spain, and finally the United States. 

The first great event in the history of the fort came 
in 1699, when the French leader, D’Iberville, on his 
way to make the settlement near what is now Biloxi, 
Mississippi, asked leave to land for a season. The 
request was not granted, and D’Iberville sailed away. 
But in 1719 the French did not ask permission to land. 
France was at war with Spain, and De Serigny took 
the fort and raised the ensign of France over Pensacola. 

The new owners did not keep their prize long. Don 
Alphonse Carracosa led an expedition from Spain, 







n6 WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 

and to him the garrison surrendered. When France 
promptly came back, the fort gave way to a combined 
sea and land attack. Many prisoners were taken, 
and the fort was destroyed. Yet in 1720 the treaty 
of peace gave the property back to Spain. The fort 
was rebuilt, and another was constructed at the end 
of Santa Rosa Island, — on the site of the Fort Pick¬ 
ens that in 1861 resisted the attack of the Confederate 
forces during a siege of more than three months. 

England had the next turn. The treaty of 1763 
gave all Florida to her, and the Union Jack floated 
above Fort San Carlos until 1781, when Galvez sailed 
from New Orleans with a fleet, and the stronghold was 
once more a possession of Spain, with whom it remained 
until 1814. At that time, by arrangement with the 
Spanish commander, the English were in charge of 
the fort. In that year General Andrew Jackson was 
given command of the Gulf Coast region. He con¬ 
quered the Creek Indians, and, while arrartging a treaty 
with them, at Mobile, Alabama, learned that the Span¬ 
ish commander at Fort San Carlos had been secretly 
working with the enemies of America. He immediately 
raised a force of Americans, and marched on Pensa¬ 
cola. The Spanish and British were defeated; and 
the British escaped down the bay in their ships, after 
blowing up Fort San Carlos. 

Today the visitor to Pensacola finds what seem to 
him to be three forts — the first a slight elevation, 
covered with grass, close to great moss-covered live 
oaks. It faces the bay, and is in the form of a semi- 


EARLY DAYS IN SANTA FE 


IX 7 

circle. The moat was within the semicircle. This is 
Fort San Carlos. 

Immediately behind Fort San Carlos is Fort Bar¬ 
rancas. This was built by the United States after 
the acquisition of the Florida territory, but is now 
abandoned. 

The third building, Fort Redoubt, is some distance 
north of Fort Barrancas. It was built by the Con¬ 
federate Army during the Civil War. 

One historian of Fort San Carlos tells of an incident 
that took place in 1914. A stranger came to Bar¬ 
rancas with an old parchment that told where to dig 
for hidden treasure within the walls. He would not 
tell how he secured the document, but he made the 
officers at the fort believe in him. Under his direc¬ 
tion, men dug until they came to a chest, buried in 
the mud at the bottom of an old well. At dark, 
it was decided to wait until morning to recover the 
chest. But next day the eager workers found that it 
had disappeared in the mud. Evidently the touch of 
tools on it had disturbed its rest, and it sank out of 
sight. And that was the end of the buried treasure 
of Fort San Carlos de Barrancas! 

34 . Early Days in Santa Fe, New Mexico 

The pueblos of what is now New Mexico became 
known to the Spanish conquerors of the Southwest 
as the Seven Cities of Cibola. Stories of the wealth 
of these cities attracted Vasquez de Coronado, who 
was governor of a large province in Mexico. With 


ii8 WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 

three hundred men he went to learn the truth. Ele 
did not find gold, but he did find a number of Indian 
pueblos. One of them was called Yuklwungga. He 
was a better military man than he was a speller, for 
he wrote the word Yuquewunge. Perhaps that was 
not such a bad attempt, after all. 

Fifty years after Coronado’s departure San Gabriel 
followed him to Yuklwungga, and in 1605 Santa Fe 
was founded on the site of the Indian settlement. 
Thus it is, next to St. Augustine, the oldest city in the 
United States. 

The oldest building in Santa Fe, the Governor’s 
Palace, is said to have as part of its walls those of the 
Indian pueblo in which San Gabriel found shelter. 
These walls are five feet thick, and the old structure 
looks more like a huge garage than a palace. Yet 
in Santa Fe the people look on it with pride, as they 
think of the centuries of history that have passed 
over it. 

The central portion of the capital city of New Mexico 
is the plaza, which, like the public squares of many 
American towns, is a gathering-plaoe for those who 
visit the city on business. The palace occupies one 
entire side of the plaza. The front of the building is 
a covered arcade, the roof of which is held up by great 
pine pillars. The roof beams extend several feet be¬ 
yond the front wall, above the arcade. The sun-dried 
brick walls are covered with cement, which has been 
renewed several times. The building has been re¬ 
stored in other ways, but it is still, in appearance, just 



EARLY DAYS IN SANTA FE 119 

as it was in the days of the first European settlers of 
Santa Fe. 

What stories it could tell of the men who explored 
the Southwest; of Indians who resisted the approach 
of Europeans wishing to take possession of their gold 
and silver mines; of lonely travelers and desperadoes 
who made Santa Fe a dangerous stopping-place; 


Governor’s Palace, Santa Fe, New Mexico 

of the devoted men who built the missions where the 
Indians learned many of the first lessons of civiliza¬ 
tion; of Zebulon M. Pike, who came this way in 1807 
from Colorado, under arrest by Mexican authorities 
who said he had trespassed on Mexican territory; 
of the great caravans of the traders who made famous 
the Santa Fe trail from the Missouri River; of strag¬ 
glers from California, excited by the story of the dis¬ 
covery of gold; of those who sought the Pacific Coast 







120 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


by the southern route that passed through this sleeping 
pueblo! 

Spanish has always been a language more in use 
than English in Santa Fe. For many years the Span¬ 
ish governor ruled from the old palace with an iron 
hand. The Indians were practically slaves. Their 
wealth was taken, and they lived in poverty. They 
bore these things, but when a governor tried to inter¬ 
fere with the primitive religious rites of the Indians, 
which they observed as a sacred trust from their an¬ 
cestors, they began to talk of revolt. Quick action 
was taken when the governor, in his attempt to put 
a stop to these rites, imprisoned a few of the natives 
and executed others. Then the Indians rose, put to 
death some of the settlers who were unable to reach 
shelter, and laid siege to several hundred men, women, 
and children who, with the governor, barricaded them¬ 
selves in the palace. 

The little company, looking out in terror on the 
Indians in the plaza, gave themselves up for lost. 
But somehow they managed to evade the enraged 
besiegers, and escaped, though many of them lost 
their lives from exposure. 

After ten years of freedom the Indians were again 
compelled to submit to the Spaniards. Fortunately 
the conqueror, De Vargas, was a humane man; he 
was a kindly governor, and the simple natives were 
glad to be ruled by him. His memory is honored in 
Santa Fe every year. 

The flag of Spain gave way to the flag of Mexico, 


CROWN POINT AND FORT TICONDEROGA 121 


and — after the American war with Mexico — the 
Stars and Stripes floated from the palace. Of the 
American governors who have lived there, the best 
known, perhaps, was General Lew Wallace, the author 
of Ben Hur. Most of the book was written within the 
walls that had echoed to the tread of heroes of many 
generations. 

Part of the old structure has been used for years as 
a museum. There are shown curious reminders of 
the days when the people of the pueblos ruled them¬ 
selves from Yuklwungga, and of the later days of the 
military leaders and the traders who taught to many 
their first knowledge of the Southwest. 

35 . Crown Point and Fort Ticonderoga, New York 

Just where the waters of Lake George and Lake 
Champlain overlap, there is a tongue of land over 
which the pioneers passed and repassed on their way 
from New York to Canada, or from the St. Lawrence 
to the South. Indians, too, knew it was a convenient 
stopping-place. They called it Ticonderoga, from 
an Iroquois word, Cheonderoga, meaning “ Sounding 
Water.” 

In 1609 Champlain was persuaded by the Indians 
of the St. Lawrence region to go to Ticonderoga to 
fight the Iroquois, their enemies. He agreed, and 
was victorious over a party of the savages. But this 
little display of power had far-reaching consequences. 
It has been pointed out that, as a result of the fight 
in 1609, the Six Nations opposed France, joined forces 


122 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


with Great Britain, and so sounded the death knell 
of French power in America. 

But Crown Point, a few miles above Ticonderoga 
on Lake Champlain, was fortified first. In 1731 Fort 
Frederic was built there, as an outpost of the French. 



Fort Ticonderoga, New York 
(R estored.) 


Located on an odd peninsula that extends out into the 
lake where it is quite narrow, it was an excellent place 
to control the movements of those who used the lake 
route to Canada. 

In January, 1756, the governor of Massachusetts 
thought it would be a good thing to send an expedition 
against Crown Point. Other colonies joined, and a 
large force was sent, under General William Johnson. 

While they were on the way, Baron Dieskau at Crown 
Point was getting ready to meet the invaders. With 





CROWN POINT AND FORT TICONDEROGA 123 


his Indian allies he marched to Ticonderoga, and en¬ 
camped there. Leaving part of his men behind, he 
reembarked on the waters of Lake Champlain, entered 
Lake George, and met the enemy. The battle that 
followed, though it seemed for a time to be in favor 
of the French, finally resulted in an English victory. 

The French retired in disorder. The Americans 
built Fort William Henry at the lower end of Lake 
George, and the French built Fort Carillon at Ticon¬ 
deroga. 

In 1757, the year the fort was finished, Montcalm, 
with eight thousand men, went down Lake George 
to attack the English Fort William Henry. The small 
force there surrendered, on promise of good treatment. 
But the Indian allies refused to consider the promise, 
and killed the men and women who were in their power. 
The destruction of the fort followed. 

The first attempt of English forces to take Fort 
Ticonderoga — in revenge for the treatment of the 
prisoners at Fort William Henry — was made in 
July, 1758. Fifteen thousand men opposed five thou¬ 
sand French, under Montcalm. There was a bitter 
contest, at a barrier of fallen trees hastily constructed 
by the French. 

One of the British soldiers, who was present that 
day, wrote of his experience : 

“ I have since been in many battles and skirmishes, 
but I have never witnessed such slaughter and such 
wild fighting as the British storm of Ticonderoga. 
We became mixed up — Highlanders, Light Troops, 


124 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


Grenadiers, Rangers, and all — and we beat against 
that mass of logs and maze of fallen timbers, and we 
beat in vain. I was once carried right up to the breast¬ 
work, but we were stopped by the bristling mass of 
sharpened branches, while the French fire swept us 
front and flank. ... We drew off after seeing that 
no human valor could take that work.” 

But in 1759 the British succeeded in their renewed 
attack on the stronghold. Montcalm had taken many 
of his men to the defense of Quebec, and the commander 
of those who were left decided that surrender was best. 
So he blew up the magazines, and the shattered fort 
became the property of the force of American and 
British soldiers. 

When the British entered the repaired fort, it was 
called Ticonderoga. Then the flag of Great Britain 
floated in peace until that day in 1775 when Ethan 
Allen and his Green Mountain Boys captured the fort 
for the colonies by a daring exploit concerning which 
truth and fiction have been busy ever since. 

During the remainder of the Revolution Ticonderoga 
was an important post. In 1776 Benedict Arnold 
sent from the fort a fleet against Carleton at Valcour 
Island. The destruction of the fleet was a minor re¬ 
sult; the greater issue was the hindrance of many of 
Great Britain’s plans; it caused fatal delay in impor¬ 
tant movements. 

General Burgoyne managed to take the fort in 1777, 
and the flag of Great Britain continued to fly from the 
staff until the close of the Revolution. 


ANCIENT FORT NIAGARA 


I2 5 


During the nineteenth century the old fort became 
a ruin, but in 1909 the owner of the site, whose ances¬ 
tors had leased it in 1806, began to restore the building 
according to the original plan, which was found in 
France. Today there are tablets and monuments 
everywhere, calling the attention of visitors to places 
where notable events occurred. 

Crown Point — which Ethan Allen took on the 
expedition that laid Ticonderoga low — also fell into 
ruins. The British had spent $10,000,000 on it, but it 
was not thought worth while to keep up the fortification. 

Today the visitor to Crown Point may find a few 
traces of the fort. But he will be attracted most by 
the Champlain Memorial, a lighthouse built by Ver¬ 
mont and New York. 

36 . Ancient Fort Niagara, New York 

When the first French explorers visited the Great 
Lakes, they learned from the Indians of the thundering 
water on a river that brought the floods to Lake On¬ 
tario, and they were not satisfied until they made in¬ 
vestigations. Probably some of them thought the tale 
was only Indian exaggeration. But when they stood 
beneath the great cataract, they realized that the sav¬ 
ages had not said too much about the wonder. 

One of them spoke of Niagara — the name given 
by the Iroquois to the river and the falls — as “ a 
cataract of frightful height.” This was in 1648. In 
1678 Hennepin drew a picture of the falls which is one 
of the curiosities of the books of early travel. 


126 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


It was seen at once that the river leading out of the 
falls was an entrance to the western country which the 
French wished to guard. So, in 1669, a fort was built 
at the mouth of the Niagara River. 

The location had little importance for many years, 
and it was not until 1726, the year of the building of 
the stone castle near the site of the earlier post, that 
the fort had its real beginning. The French felt they 



The Castle at Fort Niagara, New York 
E rected 1726 


must build it because the English were interfering with 
their fur trade with the Indians. Then the English 
planned to build Fort Oswego, and this would increase 
the difficulties of the French. 

Governor Joncaire felt that he could not wait for 
the approval of the authorities at home. He sent 
word to them that he must build a fortress, and he 
asked for a sum of money for the purpose. To the 






ANCIENT FORT NIAGARA 


127 


Indians he declared that he wished to have a mere 
trading-station. His real purpose was shown when 
he wrote to France that the building “ will not have 
the appearance of a fort, so that no offense will be 
given to the Iroquois, who have been unwilling to 
allow any there, but it will answer the purpose of a 
fort just as well.” 

The first step was the construction of two barks for 
use on Lake Ontario, to carry stone and timber for the 
building, and later, to cruise on the lake and stop 
traders bound for Oswego. 

After the construction of the barks had been begun, 
the consent of the five Iroquois nations was secured. 
They were promised that it would be to them 
“ a House of Peace ” down to the third generation and 
farther. To Gaspard Chaussegros de Lery, engineer, 
was committed the building of the structure. He de¬ 
termined to make it fireproof. “ Instead of wooden 
partitions I have built heavy walls, and paved all the 
floors with flat stone,” he wrote in a report sent to 
France. The loft was paved with flat stones “on a 
floor full of good oak joists, upon which cannon may 
be placed above the structure.” 

The trade with the Indians at the completed stone 
house on the Niagara increased. So did the activities 
of the English. Governor Burnet of New York craftily 
persuaded the Onondaga Indians that their interests 
had been endangered by the building of the French 
fort, since it penned them up from their chief hunting- 
place, and was therefore contrary to the Treaty of 


128 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


Utrecht. They agreed with him that the Iroquois 
had no right to the territory, which was really the prop¬ 
erty of the Senecas, and they asked the governor to 
appeal to King George to protect them in their right. 

Therefore the suggestion was made that they “ sub¬ 
mit and give up all their hunting country to the King,” 
and sign a deed for it. Accordingly the sachems, 
Seneca, Cayuga, and Onondaga, deeded to the English 
a sixty-mile strip along the south shore of Lake On¬ 
tario, which included the Niagara frontier, the Niagara 
River being the western boundary. 

“ From this time on, the ‘ stone house ’ was on 
British soil; but it was yet to take the new owner a 
generation to dispossess the obnoxious tenant,” Frank 
H. Severance writes in An Old Frontier of France. 

The story of the next thirty years is a story of plots 
and counter-plots, of expeditions threatened and actual, 
of disappointing campaigns, of imprisonment and 
cruelty and death. More than once Indians promised 
the English that the house at Niagara should be razed. 
Spies reported that the defenses at the castle were in 
bad shape. “ ’Tis certain that, should the English 
once attack it, ’tis theirs,” one report ran. “ I am 
informed that the fort is so dilapidated that ’tis im¬ 
possible to put a pin in it without causing it to crumble; 
stanchions have been obliged to be set up against it 
to support it.” Another report disclosed that if the 
cannon were fired, the walls would crumble. 

But the French were not ready to give up. They 
felt that Fort Niagara was the key to the Ohio 


ANCIENT FORT NIAGARA 


129 


Valley, which they wished to control. They strength¬ 
ened the defenses of the fort. The defeat of Brad- 
dock at Fort Duquesne and the strange decision of 
General Shirley to stop at Oswego instead of continuing 
with his force to Niagara gave the French a new lease 
of life. 

In 1759 came the end of French rule. General Pri- 
deaux’s expedition from New York began the siege 
of the fort early in July, and after several weeks it 
surrendered. Until 1796 the English flag floated above 
the “ castle.” The commander of this post, like the 
commanders of six other forts, refused on various pre¬ 
texts to surrender to America, in spite of the terms of 
the treaty of 1783. Attempts were made to secure pos¬ 
session, but none of them was successful, and it was 
not until 1794 that Great Britain agreed to evacuate 
Niagara and the other forts still held, “on or before the 
1st of June, 1796. ” 

Seventeen years later, in 1813, the British flag again 
replaced the Stars and Stripes over the historic build¬ 
ing, but the fort was restored to the United States in 
1815. Since that time it has been a part of the army 
post that has been more important because of its his¬ 
tory than for any other reason. 

The Daughters of the War of 1812 have placed a 
suitable tablet on the Old Castle, and are interested 
in the proposition that has been made to turn the ven¬ 
erable edifice into an international museum, which 
shall commemorate the one hundred years of peace 
between Great Britain and America. 


13 ° 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


In 1917 the eyes of the nation were once more turned 
toward the fort by Lake Ontario, for it was made a 
training-ground for officers who were to be sent to the 
battle-front in France and Belgium. The castle, 
nearly two hundred years old, and strong as ever, again 
witnessed the gathering of patriots, and the spot that 
had echoed to the tread of French who had yielded 
to the English, of English who had driven out the 
French, and of Americans who had driven out the 
English, became the parade-ground of Americans who 
were making ready to stand side by side with French 
and English for the freedom of the world. 

37 . The Story of Michilimackinac, Michigan 

One of the most beautiful places to be found on the 
Great Lakes is the island of Michilimackinac, the 
“ Great Turtle ” of the Indians, so named because of 
its shape. According to the legends of the Ojibways, 
when the Great Spirit recreated the world after the 
flood, this island was the first land to appear. 

Longfellow tells us that the region of the Great Lakes 
was the home of Hiawatha, and that the Ojibways 
were his people: 

Should you ask me whence these stories, 

I should answer, I should tell you, 

From the forests and the prairies, 

From the land of the Ojibways. 

There he lived and toiled and suffered, 

That the tribes of men might prosper, 

That he might advance his people. 


THE STORY OF MICHILIMACKINAC 


131 

The first travelers who sighted Michilimackinac 
were drawn not so much by its beauty as by its strate¬ 
gic location, at the entrance to Lake Michigan and not 
far from the entrance from Lake Huron to Lake Supe¬ 
rior. It was a splendid site for a fur-trading post, and 
for dealing with the Indians. 

The first European visitor there went in consequence 
of word that had come to Champlain of a mysterious 



The Fort at Michilimackinac, Michigan 


Indian people who, with their canoes, braved the waters 
of “ the great sea.” He thought this must be the South 
Sea, and that the Indians must be the natives of Japan 
and China; they were said to be without beards, and 
he remembered that Marco Polo had described the 
Mongols as hairless. Surely, then, if he went to this 
region, he would be the discoverer of a passage to the 
Western Ocean! 

The emissary was Jean Nicolet, and he was sent in 
1634. He thought he was going as the representative 
of France to an Asiatic people, so he provided a 



i 3 2 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


gorgeous Chinese robe which he wore when he met the 
Indians, much to their surprise and pleasure; their sav¬ 
age minds were pleased with his magnificent display. 

The visit of Nicolet has a memorial on Mackinac 
Island, as Michilimackinac came to be called in later 
years — a stone monument near Arch Rock, the 
curious natural bridge, with the - waters of the lake 
gleaming through it, that is one of the finest points 
of the rugged coast. 

Marquette also found his way to the island, and 
ruled over the French mission in the neighborhood, 
founded there because, as the Jesuits said, “ the island 
forms the key and the door, so to speak, for all the 
peoples of the South, as does the Sault for those of the 
North; from this region there are only these two pas¬ 
sages by water, for very many nations.” 

The advantages thus pointed out appealed not only 
to the Jesuits but to the fur traders. In 1679 La 
Salle’s Griffin, the first vessel on the Great Lakes 
above Niagara Falls, stopped at the island on the way 
to Green Bay, for a cargo of furs, and for more than a 
century the place was a famous fur center, first for the 
French, then for the English, and finally for the Ameri¬ 
cans. 

The story of the old fort is a long succession of ex¬ 
citing events. The most memorable of them was the 
massacre of 1763, two years after the fort had passed 
from the French to the English, at the time when the 
Indian chieftain Pontiac was rousing the tribes against 
the English. 


THE STORY OF MICHILIMACKINAC 


133 


It was the King’s birthday. To celebrate the oc¬ 
casion, Captain Etherington, who was in charge of 
the garrison, had appointed a day of sports. The 
principal interest centered in the game of baggata- 
way — something like lacrosse — played between ' 
two opposing groups of Indians. All the Indian 
friends of the players were there, some wandering 
about inside the stockade, the rest massed with the 
English as spectators of the game. Suddenly the 
ball rose in the air, and disappeared inside the walls 
of the fort. The Indians, one and all, with terrific 
yells, rushed after it in a body through the gates, 
the English suspecting nothing, until agonized cries 
were heard above the whoops of the savages. The 
treacherous Indians had fallen upon the unarmed white 
men, and upon the defenseless women and children. 
The horrible slaughter went on until only a few of the 
little garrison were left alive. 

For many years activity both military and commer¬ 
cial was at old Mackinaw on the mainland; but during 
the Revolution the English commander of the fort 
decided that there would be less chance of attack from 
the Americans on the island. So the buildings were 
taken down, and moved across, section by section. 
Some were moved in winter on the ice, and the rest in 
the spring, the timbers of the buildings being made 
into rafts. 

The new fort on the island — the third to be erected 
there—was occupied in 1780. Some ruins of it are still 
pointed out, including the blockhouse. 


134 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


Although the fort was given to the American col¬ 
onies by treaty in 1783, it was not surrendered until 
1796. After that year the Stars and Stripes waved 
above the island until the War of 1812, when Great 
Britain again took possession. 

Thus the changing history of the island is as remark¬ 
able as its beauty. It has been called “ The Fairy 
Isle,” by those who have learned to go there summer 
after summer. The old fortifications, the trading post, 
and the mission may still be seen, while the signal 
station on the ruins of Fort Holmes, where the British 
intrenched themselves in 1812, affords a glorious view 
across the Straits. Also there are many curious rock 
formations. There is Arch Rock, far above the water, 
a rugged limestone natural bridge, 140 feet high and 
3 feet wide, and also Sugar Loaf, a lonely pinnacle 
more than 100 feet high. There is a Lover’s Leap, 
where an Indian maiden mourned a lover who was 
killed while he was seeking to make for himself a 
name worthy of her; and where she was found dead 
at the foot of the rock. And finally there is Robin¬ 
son’s Folly, named for the British officer who, insisting 
that he saw on the cliff a woman of great beauty, 
caught hold of her to save her from going over the 
precipice, and fell with her to the water far below. 

It would be difficult to find in America a like area 
— the island is only about three miles long and two 
miles wide — which has so much claim to the atten¬ 
tion of both the historian and the seeker after beauty. 
No wonder half of the island here has been made a 


THE EARLY DAYS OF DETROIT 


i3S 


national park and military reservation. And no won¬ 
der it is thronged with visitors who, from there as a 
center, go across the Straits, which are from five to 
thirty miles wide, and from thirty to forty miles long; 
to St. Ignace on the northern mainland, where the 
Indians brought the body of Marquette for permanent 
bujrial; or on into the nearby waters of Lake Michigan, 
to which the Straits lead. 

38 . The Early Days of Detroit, Michigan 

The early French explorers had a vision of the im¬ 
portance of the location of Detroit, but thirty years 
passed after the coming of the first of them before a 
fur-trading post was planted on the site. Antoine 
de la Mothe Cadillac, who was responsible for the 
beginning of this southern outpost for dealing with the 
Indians, is honored by the prominent square named 
for him in a city that is more than fifty years 
older than Pittsburgh, and more than one hundred 
and twenty years older than Chicago; where the own¬ 
ership has changed five times; where Indian sieges 
and the torch of the conqueror paved the way for 
the plucky development that has made it the fourth 
city on the continent. 

In 1693 Cadillac was chosen to go to a strategic 
point on the lakes and build a fort. The site he was 
urged to fortify was on the Straits of Mackinac, for 
through this waterway the fur traders from Lakes 
Superior, Michigan, and Huron could be controlled. 

But Cadillac decided not to build at Mackinac. 


136 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


It has been suggested that the missionaries favored 
neither himself nor his business. 

At any rate he made up his mind that Detroit was the 
better site for such a fortification as he had in mind, 



From an Old Print 

“Cadillac’s Village”: Detroit in 1701 


because of its location on the narrow stream between 
Lake Erie and Lake Huron. 

The wisdom of the choice is apparent from the words 
of Channing and Lansing, in The Story of the Great 
Lakes: 

“ There rushes through the strait of Detroit more 
water than through any other river in the world, save 
only the Niagara and the St. Lawrence. Through 
this channel, whose average width is a mile, and whose 




THE EARLY DAYS OF DETROIT 


137 


length is only twenty-seven miles, pour in a steady, 
even current, unbroken by rapids or eddies, and with 
a speed of over two miles an hour, the waters of three 
lakes, Superior, Michigan, and Huron, and of the 
hundreds of streams that feed them. This little river 
is the natural outlet for 82,000 square miles of lake 
surface, and 125,000 square miles of land.” 

The building of a trading post in this strategic loca¬ 
tion was opposed by the Jesuits, but a visit to France 
opened the way for Cadillac to do as he desired. 

He returned on July 24, 1701, with fifty settlers and 
fifty soldiers. Close to the water, on what is now 
Jefferson Avenue, he laid out a plot 192 feet square, 
surrounded by palisades 12 feet high. Twenty-nine 
log huts for settlers were built within the palisades. 
Those who tilled the ground were to go to land out¬ 
side the inclosure, but so near that they could run for 
protection on the slightest hint of danger. 

The first white women came to the new village a 
few months later — Madame Cadillac and Madame 
Tonty, whose husband was the captain of the garrison. 

Two months later Cadillac wrote home of the town: 

“ Its borders are so many vast prairies, and the 
freshness of the beautiful waters keep the banks always 
green. The prairies are bordered by long and broad 
rows of great trees which have never felt the hand of 
the vigilant gardener. Here also orchards, young 
and old, bend their branches, under the weight and 
quantity of their fruit, towards the mother earth which 
has produced them. It is in this land, so fertile, that 


138 where our history was made 


the ambitious vine, which has never wept under the 
knife of the vine-dresser, builds a thick roof with its 
large and leafy clusters, weighing down the top of the 
tree which receives it, and often stifling it with its 
embrace.” 

Slowly the sturdy young outpost grew. Fifty years 
after the first huts were built, there were about five 
hundred people in the village. Long before this it had 
become necessary to build houses outside the palisade. 

During the next fifty years the career of Detroit 
was stormy. In 1763 Pontiac tried by strategy to 
take the fort, which was then in possession of the Eng¬ 
lish; but he was unsuccessful. When he laid siege 
to the fort, he might have been driven off by the sol¬ 
diers sent from Niagara to its assistance, but these 
were captured by the Indians before they could be 
of use. On July thirty-first, 250 desperate men ven¬ 
tured from the fort to fight for freedom, but they failed, 
after 159 of them had been killed. 

In spite of such disasters, the stronghold was able 
to hold out until Pontiac withdrew. 

The English held on to the fort throughout the Revo¬ 
lution, and even after the treaty of peace in 1783. 
Not until 1796 was it given up to the United States. 
“ Mad Anthony ” Wayne was sent to take charge of 
it, but he died on the way, and another took his place. 

39 . Starved Rock on the Illinois River 

The passengers on a train bound from Chicago 
toward the Mississippi River seemed to have decided 


STARVED ROCK ON THE ILLINOIS RIVER 139 


that the beautiful country through which they were 
passing had nothing in it to interest them. Far off 
to the left was the Illinois River, with the overflowed 
bottom land between. 

One traveler said he thought he might as well take 
a nap. But he was roused by the question of a man 
in the next seat, and the reply of the man’s neighbor. 

“ What is that great rock over there — the rock with 
the flag flying from the summit? ” 

“ That is Starved Rock, the most historic point on 
the Illinois River,” came the reply. “ We are so 
proud of it that we have made it a state park.” 

In a few moments the man who was proud of Starved 
Rock found himself the center of an interested group 
from which came the demand to know the story of the 
rocky bluff that stands out so prominently above the 
flat lands along the Illinois. 

When the French explorers sought the Mississippi 
River by way of the Illinois, they found that the re¬ 
gion about the modern towns of Ottawa and La Salle 
was filled with peaceable Indians, who cultivated the 
rich soil, and rejoiced in the beauty of the lands along 
the river. Trails followed by hunters and warriors 
led past their villages and off toward the Mississippi 
and the Ohio. 

In 1679, when La Salle passed down the river with 
his little company of explorers, he wondered at the 
Indians’ villages and the evidences of their industry. 
The wayfarers were quickly on guard, lest the savages 
attack them. But they found the lodges deserted, 


1 4 o WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 

for the owners were away on their annual hunt. They 
looked up to the tree-crowned rock and realized what 
a wonderful place it would be for a future community 
in the Illinois country. 

When La Salle reached the Gulf of Mexico, he sent 
back his companion, Tonty, the gallant, one-handed 
Italian, to begin the building of a stronghold on the 



Starved Rock 
On the Illinois River. 

Illinois. Later he joined his lieutenant, and together 
they worked on the fortress which they called Fort 
St. Louis. The location was well chosen, for the rock 
is not unlike the precipices on which Stirling Castle and 
Edinburgh Castle were built by those old Scotch 
warriors who were so well skilled in the art of defense. 

La Salle’s plan was to make his palisaded fort the 
center of the western fur trade and of the French power 
in the Mississippi Valley. 



STARVED ROCK ON THE ILLINOIS RIVER 141 


But evil days for La Salle followed : he was recalled 
to France on charges of disloyalty. In his absence 
the Iroquois Indians laid siege to the rock in 1683, 
but were compelled to withdraw. In 1684 Tonty be¬ 
came commander of this farthest frontier of French 
power. There he waited in vain for the return of his 
leader, who had lost his life during an expedition to the 
region bordering on the Gulf of Mexico. 

The story of Tonty’s stay at Fort St. Louis is full of 
events. There he welcomed the survivors of the ill- 
fated party, and later dealt with the savages, until, 
in 1698, came the order from the king of France that 
the rock, together with other outposts on the lakes and 
beyond, be abandoned. The story of those fourteen 
years in the fortress in the wilderness is one of the glo¬ 
rious romances of American history. 

Not until 1769 did the height receive the name it 
now bears. Then Pontiac, Ottawa’s chieftain, was 
killed by an Indian. In revenge the Ottawas and the 
Pottawattomies vowed to exterminate the Illinois. 
At length they succeeded in destroying all but a few 
of the doomed savages. These fled for refuge to the 
rock where La Salle and Tonty had ruled. For a time 
the Illinois succeeded in keeping their enemy at bay, 
but the day came when the watchful besiegers, discov¬ 
ering the thongs by which the Illinois raised water 
from the river, cut the thongs and thus made impossible 
the securing of further supplies. But the heroes would 
not yield. Finally all were dead, and their bones were 
found, long afterward, on the summit of Starved Rock. 


142 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


Starved Rock rises precipitously 125 feet from the 
water. In fact, it juts out over the water. It cannot 
be scaled from one side, but approach is possible from 
the land side. 

In 1911 the state of Illinois set apart the rock and the 
surrounding land as a park for the people. Today 
there are nine hundred acres in the park, which has 
been enlarged so as to include all the canyons, water¬ 
falls, glens, and rock formations that make the vicinity 
so remarkable. The Council Cave of the Indians, 
dark and gloomy under the overhanging rock, is one 
of the chief attractions of the spot that was so long 
the outermost post of French power in the western 
world. 

40 . Old Fort Chartres on the Mississippi River 

Some distance below St. Louis, and a few miles from 
the spot where stood Kaskaskia, which was once a 
fortress, and later capital of Illinois Territory, are the 
remains of Fort Chartres. There the French ruled 
proudly for nearly fifty years. 

The first Fort Chartres was finished in 1720, the 
year when Philippe Francois de Renault brought with 
him up the river two hundred white men and five 
hundred Santo Domingo negroes. 

One of the purposes of the fort was to protect 
against the Spaniards the servants of John Law’s fa¬ 
mous Company of the Indies, which was later known as 
the “ Mississippi Bubble.” This was an enormous trad¬ 
ing association, which was to accomplish financial won- 


OLD FORT CHARTRES 


143 


ders for France. In selling shares in the company, 
“ large engravings were distributed in France, repre¬ 
senting the arrival of the French at the Mississippi 
River, and savages with their squaws rushing to meet 
the new arrivals with evident respect and admiration.’’ 

Promises of great dividends from mountains of gold 
and silver, lead, copper, and quicksilver were made. 
Shares rose rapidly, and 
soon were selling for 20,000 
francs. For three months 
the French people believed 
in Law. Then the “ Mis¬ 
sissippi Bubble ” burst, 
and there was sorrow in 
the homeland. 

In the meantime the 
work at Fort Chartres was 
continued. Within the 
stockade of wood, which 
had earth between the 
palisades for purposes of The Magazine at Old Fort 
strength, many wandering Chartres, Illinois 

savages who brought their furs for barter were received. 
The French residents felt secure in the presence of their 
protectors. 

Various attacks were made on the Indians. One 
expedition was sent out against the Chickasaw Indians, 
on the Arkansas River. Disaster overtook the com¬ 
pany of French soldiers, and fifteen were captured and 
put to death with savage barbarity. 





144 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


In 1753 the fort was in such bad condition that it 
was decided to build anew, this time of stone, brought 
from the bluffs. When completed, the new structure 
was one of the strongest forts ever built in America. 

An English traveler who visited the new stronghold 
in 1765, when the British were in control, told of finding 
walls two feet five inches thick, pierced with loopholes 
at regular distances, and with two portholes for can¬ 
non in the faces and two in the flanks of each bastion. 
There was a ditch, but this had not been completed. 
The entrance was a handsome rustic gate. Within 
the fort he found the houses of the commander and of 
the commissary, the magazine for stores, and the 
quarters of the soldiers. There were also a powder 
magazine, a bakehouse, and a prison. 

The visitor told how the bank of the Mississippi was 
continually falling in, and so was threatening the cita¬ 
del. In the effort to control the destructive current, 
a sand bank had been built to turn it from its course; 
the sand bank had become an island, covered by wil¬ 
lows. It was realized that the destruction of the fort 
was sure. 

“ When the fort was finished in the year 17 56,” he 
wrote, “ it was a good half mile from the water side; 
in the year 1766 it was but eighty paces; eight years 
ago the river was fordable to the island; the channel 
is now forty feet deep. In the year 1764 there were 
about forty families in the village near the fort and a 
parish church, served by a Franciscan friar. In the 
following year, when the English took possession of 


FORT MASSAC ON THE OHIO RIVER 145 


the country, they abandoned these houses, except 
three or four poor families, and settled at the village 
on the west side of the Mississippi, choosing to con¬ 
tinue under the French government.” 

In 1772 a flood washed away part of the fort, on 
which a million dollars had been spent, a large amount 
for that day. The garrison fled to Kaskaskia, abandon¬ 
ing a fort which they thought was later to be swallowed 
completely by the river. 

But the Mississippi relented in its approach to Fort 
Chartres. A bit of the old structure still stands — 
the powder magazine and fragments of the old walls. 

Fortunately, Congress withdrew from entry or sale 
a tract of land a mile square, including the site of the 
stronghold. Thus the way was opened for the acquire¬ 
ment of the property by Illinois, which has made of 
it a state park. The fort is to be rebuilt in accordance 
with the original plan, which has been discovered in 
France. 

41. Fort Massac on the Ohio River 

In the days of the French dream of holding the West, 
they sent out explorers, like Celeron, who planted 
leaden plates at the mouth of tributary rivers, having 
inscribed on them claims to the lands watered by the 
streams. Then they built a line of forts. Some of 
the leaden plates have been discovered; others are 
probably still buried where they were placed. But 
all trace of the forts has disappeared, with the excep¬ 
tion of Fort Massac, on a height above the Ohio, 


146 where our history was made 

La Belle Riviere of the French. The site of the fort 
looks down on the great upward curve of the river 
which deprives Illinois of territory, and gives it to 
Kentucky; and over toward Paducah, located at the 

mouth of the Tennessee 
River. It was wisely 
chosen, for it could com¬ 
mand the lower Ohio, as 
well as the Tennessee and 
Cumberland Rivers. The 
mouth of the Wabash 
River is not far away. 
Thus, whether for trade or 
for war, the situation was 
strategic. 

Some think that De Soto 

stopped at this spot in 1542 
° N the Site of Fort Massac, and b at a pa l isade . Rut 
on the Ohio River ^ 

certain history begins with 

1702, when thirty men were sent from Kaskaskia, 
on the Mississippi, under the leadership of M. Juche- 
rau de St. Denis, to fortify the position. In the party 
was Father Mermet, who speedily gathered the In¬ 
dians about him for religious instruction. The men 
and women of the forest made a picturesque company 
as they assembled, wearing deer-hide or robes made of 
the skins of animals. 

After the prosperity of the first few years came decay. 
Jucherau was called away, and Father Mermet was 
summoned to Kaskaskia. The absence of the leaders 





FORT MASSAC ON THE OHIO RIVER 


x 47 


made the Indians bold, and they terrorized the few 
French who were left, until they fle^d, abandoning 
thirteen thousand skins of the buffalo. 

. Years passed. In 1757 Captain Charles Philip 
Aubrey was sent from -New Orleans to protect the 
remnants of the French from the threats of the British. 
He built the stronghold which he called Fort Ascen¬ 
sion, because the work was begun on Ascension Day. 

The French,’ so the story goes, were once attacked 
by the Indians. A party came to the Kentucky side 
of the river, clad in bearskins, and crawling on hands 
and knees. Attracted by the strange sight, the sol¬ 
diers left the garrison unguarded and crossed the river. 
While they were gone, other Indians entered the fort 
and the settlement that had grown up about it. They 
met with no resistance. All the people were mur¬ 
dered, and all buildings were burned. 

From this event the fort became known as Fort 
Massacre. This name was later shortened to Fort 
Massac. 

French hold on the place lasted only until 1763, 
when the Treaty of Paris gave it to England. Eng¬ 
land kept it until the June day in 1778 when George 
Rogers Clark, with his doughty little company from 
Virginia and Kentucky, landed there on his journey 
to Kaskaskia, to break the power of the English in the 
western country. The fort fell before him, and it is 
likely that the American flag was there first displayed 
west of the Ohio River. With his one hundred and 
twenty men he then marched across Illinois to Kas- 


i 4 8 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


kaskia, and later still crossed the state to Vincennes, on 
the Wabash, winning both outposts for the colonies. 

Fort Massac was abandoned until 1794, when Presi¬ 
dent Washington decided to rebuild and garrison it, 
that the many settlers who were already on the move 
to the western country might have the protection they 
needed. 

The next great event in the history of the fortress 
was in 1805. In that year Aaron Burr stopped there 
while on his way down the Ohio and Mississippi, 
during his attempt to found an empire which he trai¬ 
torously planned to take the place of the United States. 

Fifty years after Burr’s visit, it was reported that the 
walls of the fort were intact. The main building was 
135 feet square, and there was a tower at each of the 
four corners. As years passed, the masonry crumbled. 
In 1903, when the Daughters of the American Revolu¬ 
tion succeeded in persuading Illinois to purchase the 
site and make of it a state park, a monument to George 
Rogers Clark was built on the site of the old fort. 

42 . The Massacre of the French, at Natchez, 
Mississippi 

The French, under De Bienville, built Fort Rosalie 
at Natchez, on the Mississippi, in 1716. A tragic 
event occurred there, the first account of which was 
given in a manuscript history of Mississippi, prepared 
in 1801 and placed in the Library of Congress. The 
facts of the story, according to this account, were as 
follows: 


MASSACRE OF THE FRENCH 


149 



In 1729 the Commandant at Fort Rosalie was a 
hard, grasping man, disliked by the Indians as well 
as by his own soldiers. He was eager to secure White 
Apple Village, located on 
Second Creek, twelve miles 
southeast of Natchez, that 
he might make another 
settlement there. 

But the Natchez Indians 
did not wish to give it up 
to him. They refused, even 
when he ordered them to 
do his will. The reason 
given by the chief of the 
tribe was that the bones of 
his ancestors were buried 
there. 

The Commandant was 
still determined. He told 
the chief that unless the 
Indians gave up the village, 
they would be destroyed. 

The chief asked for a 
delay of two moons, that lNDIAN IN Full Headdress 
his people might find a new habitation. During this in¬ 
terval he called together the leaders of the Indian na¬ 
tions. These men decided to kill, at one time and by 
a united attack, all the French on the Mississippi, 
from Natchez to the ocean. Since there were no French 
settlements between Natchez and the Illinois country, 




WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


IS© 

they planned to regain control of the entire lower 
river. 

The date appointed for the attack was November 
30, 1729. To avoid mistake in calculating the time, 
every chief prepared a bundle of rods, one rod for each 
intervening day. This bundle was given to a priest 
who deposited it in the temple of which he had charge. 
Every morning the priest was to destroy one rod; 
on the morning when but one rod remained the fatal 
blow was to be struck. 

Now the supreme chief of all the Indians was a young 
man of eighteen. His mother knew that something 
was planned, and suspected that it was against the 
French, for she had been told of the sending out of 
the messengers who called the council. She was eager 
to help the French; her husband had been a French¬ 
man. So she begged her son to tell her the secrets of 
the council. He refused for a time ; but at last, worn 
out by her entreaties, he made known to her the whole 
plan. 

In vain she pleaded that the attack might be given 
up. Then she managed to send word to the Comman¬ 
dant, through some of his officers who had friends 
in her tribe. The Commandant laughed at the notion 
that the Indians could do any harm', and punished his 
officers for raising a false alarm. 

When the supreme chief’s mother saw that nothing 
would be done by the Commandant, she resorted to 
strategy. Going to the temple of the Natchez, she 
drew out and destroyed two of the important rods, 


MASSACRE OF THE FRENCH 151 

with the thought that the Natchez Indians, depending 
for their information on the rods in the temple, would 
strike two days ahead of the day planned for a general 
uprising. Thus the French settlements would be 
warned in time to prepare themselves for, the later 
attack of the other tribes. 

When there was but one rod left in the Natchez 
temple, the Indians rose, and two thousand French 
of all ages were killed, and the fort was burned. It 
is said that but one Frenchman escaped, and that he 
was so closely pressed that he had to swim the Missis¬ 
sippi four times on horseback. Ninety women, one 
hundred and fifty children, and a company of negroes 
were made prisoners. 

When the other tribes heard that the Natchez In¬ 
dians had struck a blow two days before the time ap¬ 
pointed, they were angry; they thought that this had 
been done because the Natchez wished to enrich them¬ 
selves alone with the spoils. The Choctaws were 
especially bitter. In their rage, the various tribes 
which had been left out of the attack on the French 
agreed to join the white men in punishing the 
Natchez. 

The Natchez Indians learned of their danger in time 
to build a rough fortification a few miles up the Mis¬ 
sissippi. There the French and their allies attacked 
them. About one thousand of the tribe were made 
prisoners and were sent to New Orleans, and then 
to San Domingo, where they were sold as slaves. It 
is said that the remainder of the company, taking ad- 


152 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


vantage of a thunderstorm, escaped to the Chickasaws, 
and with them found safety. 

Fort Rosalie was rebuilt at once, and was occupied 
until it was turned over to the English in 1764. As 
Fort Panmure the English kept it until 1779, when 
Spain took possession. In 1798 the Spanish flag was 
lowered, and United States troops occupied the strong¬ 
hold. 

43 . The Romance of New Orleans, Louisiana 

Away back in 1721, when De Bienville founded New 
Orleans, the surroundings of the settlement were 
rather dismal. Three years later a visitor wrote a 
description that it is difficult to believe in these days 
when everything in the modern city and its neighbor¬ 
hood seems so attractive. 

The writer told of one hundred houses “in a mala¬ 
rious wet thicket of damp palmettos — full of serpents 
and alligators.” 

Yet even the man who gave such an uncomplimen¬ 
tary opinion of the surroundings prophesied a great 
future for the colony. 

In 1722 New Orleans became the capital of the prov¬ 
ince of Louisiana. The history of the next forty years 
is full of vivid color, but there is nothing quite 
so thrilling as the events that followed the secret ces¬ 
sion of the province to Spain. 

In 1762 Antonio de Ulloa entered New Orleans and 
called on the city to be loyal to Spain. But business 
men refused; they feared that the commercial laws 


THE ROMANCE OF NEW ORLEANS 


i53 


of Spain would not be favorable to them. The militia 
would not serve the new government, although the 
treaty had said that they could be counted on. 

For a time Ulloa ruled the city through the French 
governor, Aubrey; but such a state of affairs could 
not continue. An appeal made to Paris by the citi¬ 
zens proved ineffective, and efforts to secure aid from 
the British at Pensacola came to nothing. 

The breaking out of open rebellion compelled Ulloa 
to leave New Orleans in 1768, and for a few months 
the city and the province were left in the hands of the 
insurgents. This rule, during the interval until a 
new governor came, has been called republican by 
some, since the citizens formally called the colony the 
Republic of Louisiana. Thus it was the first republic 
in America. 

The republic, or the rebellion, lasted only until 
July, 1769, when a Spanish squadron arrived at New 
Orleans with Alexander O’Reilly, the new governor. 
Some of the leaders of the rebellion were put to death, 
while others were taken to Havana to prison. 

O’Reilly’s next step was to reorganize the civil gov¬ 
ernment. Among other things, he instituted the 
Cabildo as the law-making body of the province, to 
take the place of the French supreme court. The 
original building occupied by the Cabildo was de¬ 
stroyed in the fire of 1788, when, in less than five 
hours, 816 buildings were burned. The loss, amount¬ 
ing to $3,000,000, was a blessing in disguise, for it 
cleared the ground for the reconstruction of the city 


154 


WHERE OUR HISTORY.WAS MADE 


under the leadership of Don Andres Almonaster y 
Roxas, who was a member of the Cabildo. He had 
become rich since his arrival with the Spaniards, and 
he had a vision of a city glorified through his wealth. 



The Cabildo, the Cathedral, and the Presbytere, New Orleans, 
Louisiana 


First he built a schoolhouse, a church, and a hospital. 
On one side of the church he erected a convent; on 
the other side he raised a new town hall, the Cabildo. 
The walls of this edifice are as sturdy today as in 1795. 
They are of brick, half the thickness of the ordinary 
brick. Shell-lime was used for the mortar. Originally 
the building was two stories in height, with a flat roof; 
the mansard roof was added much later. 

For eight years more the Cabildo continued its ses¬ 
sions under Spanish rule. Then came the news that 
Louisiana had been transferred by Spain to France. 
Great preparations were made for the ceremonies that 










MOBILE, ALABAMA, IN EARLY DAYS 155 


were to accompany the lowering of the Spanish flag 
and the raising of the French colors in the square be¬ 
fore the Cabildo. Then the prefect Laussat was thun¬ 
derstruck by the coming of word that Napoleon had 
appointed a commission, not only to receive the colony 
from Spain, but also to give it into the hands of the 
United States, to which the vast territory had been 
sold. 

The first transfer took place on November 30, 1803. 
The official document was signed in the Saja Capitular, 
the hall where the Cabildo met, and was read from the 
center gallery. Then the tricolor of France replaced 
the flag of Spain. 

December 20, 1803, was the date of the transfer 
to the United States. The American Commission 
met the French Commission in the Sala Capitular of 
the Hotel de Ville, as the French called the Cabildo. 
Governor Claiborne received the keys of the city, 
and the tricolor on the flagstaff gave way to the Stars 
and Stripes. A vast company of citizens watched the 
ceremonies, listened to the addresses, and gazed at the 
American troops in the square, as well as at the French 
soldiers who were to have no further power in the 
province. 

44 . Mobile, Alabama, in Early Days 

Tuskaloosa, the Black Warrior, “ emperor ” of a 
powerful Indian tribe, lived on the Alabama River 
in a town called Maubila. This name means “ Pad¬ 
dling.” It was natural to apply it to the place, for 


156 WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 

the canoes of the braves were continually darting on the 
water beneath the bluff on which the town was built. 

Maubila was an Indian stronghold; it was sur¬ 
rounded with plastered log walls, in which portholes 
were cut. In the middle of the site was an open space, 
bordered by large wooden buildings, in each of which 
one thousand warriors could be cared for in time of 
need. Then came the bark wigwams of the families. 

There, in 1540, DeSoto paid a visit to the emperor, 
and was driven from the place when one of the Indians 
was insulted. In the bitter fight that followed, De 
Soto was finally victorious. Maubila was burned, 
and Tuskaloosa perished with six thousand of his men. 

The exact location of the town that was destroyed 
on October 18, 1540, is not known, though it is prob¬ 
able that it was in Clarke County, far from the site 
of the present city of Mobile, which has nothing but 
the name in common with the old Indian town. 

The beginning of Mobile, though not on the exact 
site of the present city, but twenty miles up the Ala¬ 
bama River, was in 1701, or early in 1702, when De 
Bienville broke ground for Fort Louis, as capital of 
France in the New World. From this point it would 
be possible not only to guard against the Spaniards 
at Pensacola, but to advance the interests of trade 
among the Indians, all of whom understood the Mobil- 
ian language in addition to their own tongue. 

Mobile became at once the popular name among 
the few families of the colonists. The head of one of 
these families, a tanner, one day wandered into the 


MOBILE, ALABAMA, IN EARLY DAYS 157 


forest, and was lost. After spending twelve days 
without food, he was found by hunters and taken 
back to the settlement. 

In 1709 it became necessary to seek a new location 
for the fort and the town, because the overflow in a 
great flood covered both. When the new town had 



Boxmaker’s Bluff on the Tombigbee River, Alabama 

The site of Fort Tombecbe, built by the French for the defense of Mobile and 
French interests on the Gulf of Mexico. 


been laid out at the mouth of the river, and buildings 
had been erected, the soldiers and the citizens moved 
to what is the site of the Mobile of today. This was 
in 1710. 

According to a plan of the town discovered in France, 
the houses were built of “ cedar and pine upon a founda¬ 
tion of wooden stakes which project out of the ground 
one foot and might be called piling. . . . The houses 
are eighteen, twenty to twenty-five feet high or more, 





158 WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 

some lower, constructed of a kind of plaster, made of 
oyster shells.” 

The importance of the fort — which became Fort 
Conde in 1713 — and the town was lessened when 
the French capital was removed to Biloxi. But the 
town continued to grow. Its prosperity was inter¬ 
rupted by the cyclones in 1740, when houses were 
blown down and many lost their lives. Five years 
later there were only 150 white men and 200 negroes 
living there. 

Then came the day of the British. Beginning in 
1763, the flag of Great Britain flew over the old fort, 
and her forces occupied the town. It was not made 
a part of the thirteen colonies, but was a part of West 
Florida, of which Pensacola was capital. Interest in 
the new province was great in England. One paper 
published this description of the surroundings: 

“ The Bay of Mobile forms a most noble and spa¬ 
cious harbor, running thirty miles north, and six miles 
broad, to the several mouths of the Halabama and 
Chickasaw Rivers. The French, perceiving the im¬ 
portance of this place, and the advantages that must 
naturally rise therefrom, erected, on the west side of 
the bay, a strong fort called after the bay. The place 
is now become to us of the utmost consequence, since 
all the country to the eastward of the Mississippi is 
ceded to us by the last treaty of peace as a part of 
Louisiana east of the Mississippi River.” 

But Great Britain was compelled to yield Mobile 
to Spain, in consequence of the attacks of Don Bernardo 


THE BLOCKHOUSE AT PITTSBURGH 


I 59 


de Galvez, governor of New Orleans, in 1780. The 
contest lasted more than a month, but the invaders 
were successful. Later successes made West Florida 
a Spanish province, and Mobile continued under the 
flag of the Dons. 

Thirty-three years later General James Wilkinson 
took possession of the city for the United States, for 
Spain was an ally of Great Britain in the War of 1812. 
More than that, it was held by President Madison that 
Mobile was a part of Louisiana, which had been bought 
from France in 1803. 

Thus the territory of Mississippi at last reached the 
Gulf of Mexico. 

45. The Blockhouse at Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania 

In the days when France claimed as her own the 
entire American continent, except the strip of seacoast 
where were the British colonies, her military leaders 
planned a series of forts from Canada to the Mississippi. 

In arranging for their locations, it was felt that one 
should be at the “ Forks of the Ohio,” where Pitts¬ 
burgh is now located ; for this spot controlled Niagara, 
which point would be able to control the West. 

In November, 1753, when the French were building 
one of the projected chain, Fort Le Boeuf, on French 
Creek, which enters the Allegheny many miles north 
of Pittsburgh, Major George Washington, in the com¬ 
pany of Christopher Gist, his guide, succeeded in 
reaching the fort, after a long and dangerous journey 
through the wilderness. Washington bore a letter 


160 WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 

from Governor Dinwiddie of Virginia. This letter ex¬ 
pressed surprise that the French were building forts 
on lands that belonged to Great Britain, and demanded 
the withdrawal of the garrisons. 

This trip was memorable because of Washington’s 
two narrow escapes from death — one at the hands 
of an Indian, another from the ice in the Allegheny 
River, into which he fell. After his return he rec¬ 
ommended the building of a fortification at the Forks 
of the Ohio, for use in enforcing the demand that the 
French leave the country, and in preventing further 
invasion. 

So Captain William Trent was sent with a company 
of backwoodsmen to build the fort in the chosen spot. 
The work was begun, but it was soon left in charge 
of forty men, commanded by Ensign Ward, while Trent 
went for Washington, who was on Wills Creek, more 
than one hundred miles distant. 

On April 17, 1754, a French invading force of per¬ 
haps one thousand men reached the fort, having come 
down the Allegheny in canoes and bateaux. The call 
for surrender could not be resisted. 

At once the French destroyed the beginnings of the 
English stronghold, and built what they called Fort 
Duquesne. 

Ward hurried with the news to Washington, who 
started with his men for the Forks of the Ohio. Prog¬ 
ress was slow; it was necessary to cut a road across 
the mountains for the cannon and the wagons. Yet 
in a month’s time he had reached Great Meadows, 


THE BLOCKHOUSE AT PITTSBURGH 161 

in Fayette County, where a company of French sol¬ 
diers met him. They had come from the fort, seeking 
battle. They had their wish. In the short but bitter 
fight the French were defeated and made prisoners. 

After the battle Washington started once more for 
Fort Duquesne, but turned back when he learned that 
more French were on the way to oppose him. At 
Great Meadows he quickly built a fortification, named 
it Fort Necessity,, and waited for the enemy. The 
skirmish that followed resulted in Washington’s de¬ 
feat. 

Then came the disastrous expedition led by General 
Braddock against Fort Duquesne. The British were 
within a few miles of their destination when the French 
came out to meet them and defeated them. But the 
next attempt on the fort, made under the leadership of 
General Forbes, who cut a new road over the Alle¬ 
ghenies, was successful. The French withdrew from 
Fort Duquesne, after destroying it completely. A 
victory had been won of which Parkman said: 

“ It opened the Great West to English enterprise, 
took from France herself her savage allies, and re¬ 
deemed the western border from the scourge of Indian 
war.” 

Late in the summer of 1759 General John Stanwix, 
who had succeeded Forbes after the latter’s death, 
built Fort Pitt, close to the site of the destroyed strong¬ 
hold of the French, on the point where the Allegheny 
and Monongahela Rivers unite to form the Ohio. 
Fort Pitt was a substantial structure, and was within 


i 62 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


a stockade that inclosed a large section of what is 
today the city of Pittsburgh. 

For some years the settlers of western Pennsylvania 
were dependent upon the prestige and protection of 
this fort during the warfare with the Indians which 
continued until the close of the French and Indian War. 
Fort Pitt was one of the two posts in the western 
country that escaped when Pontiac stirred up the 



The Blockhouse at Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania 


Indians to make the great effort to drive the pioneers 
out of the land formerly held by the French. But its 
escape was by a narrow margin. Indians were besieg¬ 
ing it when word came to them that Colonel Bouquet, 
approaching through the forest with five hundred 
relief troops, had been attacked by a party of savages. 
The Indians surrounding the fort, when they heard 
the news, ceased their assault, and hastened to the 








THE BLOCKHOUSE AT PITTSBURGH 163 


aid of their friends on the warpath. For two days 
the battle raged in the wilderness. At the end of that 
time the English leader was victorious; the savages 
were completely routed. 

Colonel Bouquet went on to Fort Pitt, where he 
built an addition to the defenses, the Redoubt or Block¬ 
house, which still stands — not only all that remains 
of Fort Pitt, but the only existing memorial of British 
occupancy in the region of Pittsburgh. 

Once more — during the Revolution — Fort Pitt 
was of great use in holding in check the Indians, 
who several times sought to take advantage of the 
fact that the colonies were occupied in fighting Great 
Britain. 

After the fort disappeared, the Blockhouse — which 
is a solid brick structure, with a squared oak log on 
each floor through which loopholes were cut — became 
a part of a tenement house. But in 1894, when the 
Daughters of the American Revolution received it 
as a gift, the tenements surrounding it were cleared 
away, and the old date stone, which was a part of the 
Redoubt when it was built, was brought from the City 
Hall, and replaced above the door. Today visitors who 
enter the Blockhouse pass under the legend: 

Coll. Bouquet 
i7 6 4 


CHAPTER IV 


STORIES OF EDUCATIONAL BEGINNINGS 

46 . Harvard University, Cambridge, Massachusetts 

In the old book, New England's First Fruits , is' a 
passage which Harvard College looks upon as its own 
peculiar property: 

“ After God had carried us safe to New England, and 
we had builded our houses, provided necessaries for our 
livelihood, reared convenient places for God’s worship, 
and settled the civil government, one of the next things 
we longed for, and looked after, was to advance learn¬ 
ing and perpetuate it to posterity; dreading to leave 
an illiterate ministry to the churches, when our pres¬ 
ent ministers shall lie in the dust.” 

In 1636 the first appropriation for the longed-for 
school was made. The measure of the desire for a 
school is seen from the fact that, while it had been 
difficult to raise £60 to defend the colony from the 
Indians, there was no trouble in giving £400 to the col¬ 
lege. In 1637 the General Court of Massachusetts 
voted: “ The college is ordered to be at Newetowne.” 
Soon the name of Newetowne was changed to Cam¬ 
bridge, because Cambridge, England, was the univer¬ 
sity in which many of the settlers had been trained. 

A plot of two and two-thirds acres was given by the 
164 



Massachusetts Hall, Harvard University, Cambridge, Massa- 

• CHUSETTS 

The oldest college building in America, with one exception. 

165 















i66 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


town for the use of the college. This land is still oc¬ 
cupied by one of the college buildings. 

The first building caused a good deal of criticism: 
“ It was thought by some too gorgeous for a wilder¬ 
ness, and yet too mean in others’ apprehension for a 
college.” 

The name of the new institution was not given until 
1638, when Reverend John Harvard died, leaving 
to the college one half of his fortune, which amounted 
to £700, and his library of 260 volumes — a large 
library for that day. The collection, which had 
gathered about it nearly five thousand volumes more, 
was a treasured possession of the college until 1764, 
when it was destroyed in the fire that consumed Har¬ 
vard Hall, a building erected in 1672. A new building, 
bearing the same name, was erected later in the year, 
and soon a new library was gathered. In 1775 this 
was taken for safe-keeping to Andover, but in 1778 
it was returned. During the first part of its absence 
Harvard Hall was used as barracks for the troops of 
the province, and about a thousand pounds of lead 
were taken from the roof and molded into bullets. 

Many of the men who were prominent patriots, dur¬ 
ing the days of the Revolution and the troubles that 
led to- it, while students at Harvard were residents 
of Massachusetts Hall, the building of which was be¬ 
gun when, in 1718, the Great and General Court ap¬ 
propriated £3500 for the purpose. Massachusetts Hall 
still stands; with the exception of William and Mary, 
it is the oldest college building in the United States. 


HARVARD UNIVERSITY 


167 


The house where the presidents of the college lived 
during more than a century, Wadsworth Hall, was 
built in 1726. The records of the college tell of it:. 

“ The President’s house, to dwell in, was raised May 
24, 1726. No life was lost, no person hurt in raising 
it; thanks be to God for His preserving goodness. 
In the evening, those who raised the house had a sup¬ 
per in the hall, after which we sang the first staff of the 
127 Psalm.” 

Wadsworth House had its part in the Revolution. 
From it President Langdon went to Cambridge Com¬ 
mon, just before the Battle of Bunker Hill, to offer 
prayer, in the presence of the American Army, that the 
cause of liberty might prosper. For a time Washing¬ 
ton lived in the building, when he came to take com¬ 
mand of the army. When Boston was under siege, 
the house was used for the commissary department. 

Another building occupied by the army during the 
Revolution was Hollis Hall, which was constructed in 
1763, also from the proceeds of a gift from the province. 

Among other important events in the early history 
of the institution before the Revolution, was the es¬ 
tablishment of a ferry across Charles River at Charles¬ 
town. The profits of this enterprise were to go to the 
college. Later came a gift of which this record was 
made: 

“ Mr. Joss Glover gave to the college a font of print¬ 
ing letters, and some gentlemen of Amsterdam gave 
toward providing of a printing press with letters, £49 
and something more.” 


i68 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


The press, which was set up in the house of Presi¬ 
dent Dunster, was put in charge of Stephen Daye, 
who came to Boston in 1638. For forty years this 
was the only press in America. Of about one hundred 
books that it produced, the chief was the Indian Bible, 
translated by John Eliot. The work on the Bible 
required three years, but one sheet being printed 
each week. 

A copy of the Bible is preserved in the Harvard 
Library, where it is a fitting neighbor of the venerable 
buildings that had so much to do with the history 
of early days. 

47. The Beginnings of Yale University, New Haven, 
Connecticut 

A group of ministers who wished to have a college 
in Connecticut Colony met in the little town of Bran¬ 
ford in October, 1701. A few days later, when the 
General Assembly gathered for its first meeting in 
New Haven, these ministers took a paper to Governor 
Winthrop which asked permission to found a “ Col¬ 
legiate School ” “ wherein youth may be instructed 
in the Arts and Sciences ” and “ fitted for Public Em¬ 
ployment both in Church & Civil State.” Instead 
of president they were to call the head of the college 
rector, and the teachers were to be known as tutors. 

For six years the students were taught in Killing- 
worth, where the rector, Abraham Pierson, was also 
the minister. The first student entered in March, 
1702, and in the following September three others 


THE BEGINNINGS OF YALE UNIVERSITY 169 


rode down the Boston Post Road to register in the new 
school. 

The rules required that all oral recitations and con¬ 
versation out of classroom hours should be in Latin. 
Going to college was a very serious occupation two 
hundred years ago, and the daily schedule allowed 
little time for play. Morning prayers were said at 
sunrise, and, except for a short period of recreation 
after the midday dinner, recitations and study periods 
continued until nine o’clock, when everyone had to 
go to bed. Instead of playing football and baseball 
the students could go fishing in the river, or hunting 
and tramping in the woods. 

The first commencement was held in Saybrook, and 
later the school was established there. It was in charge 
of a tutor, for the second rector was a pastor in Milford, 
and could not leave his church, as the college was so 
small and poor. So the senior class lived in Milford, 
and the other students in Saybrook. And then there 
came a further division of students, for some of them 
did not like the tutors. These students went up to 
Wethersfield to study with a teacher whom they pre¬ 
ferred. He later became rector. Some of the trustees 
were not opposed to this removal, for there was great 
rivalry between the Hartford people and those who 
lived on the coast; so that for several years it was hard 
to tell whether there would be one “ Collegiate School ” 
or two. 

In 1716 the school was moved to New Haven and 
a “ College House ” started, opposite the Market- 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


170 

Place, now called the Green. This location, facing the 
beautiful square with its old churches, its criss-cross 
paths, and its brooding elm trees, is a place that visi¬ 
tors never forget. 

During all this period some of the trustees had been 
working very hard to get money and other gifts for 
the struggling college. One of their best friends was 
Jeremiah Dummer, who was the colony’s agent in 
London. Mr. Dummer collected many books for the 
school, and he was largely responsible for interesting 
Elihu Yale, former governor of Fort St. George, Mad¬ 
ras, India, in the little institution in the New World. 
Governor Yale was born in New England, and knew 
about New Haven because his grandmother had mar¬ 
ried Governor Theophilus Eaton of that ' colony. 
Governor Yale’s gift arrived when the trustees were try¬ 
ing to raise money for the new building in New Haven. 
At the first commencement in the College House, 
the building was named “Yale College,” in honor of 
the donor of this important gift. 

Life in the old college was quite different from college 
life today. The two upper classes, instead of being 
called junior and senior, were known as junior sophister 
and senior sophister. The change from a lower class 
to a higher was made, not in June, but in September, 
when the seniors were graduated. After commence¬ 
ment there was a six weeks’ vacation. About the 
middle of January began a vacation of three weeks. 
Early in May came a vacation of one week. School 
kept during the summer. 







I7i 


On the Campus, Yale University, New Haven, Connecticut 
























172 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


The president of Yale College had many duties that 
are not ordinarily thought of as belonging to college 
presidents, as is shown in extracts from the journal 
of Dr. Stiles, who was president from 1777 to 1795 : 

“ Yesterday I appointed Stebbins, a Freshman, to 
ring the bell for prayers, recitations, etc., and released 
him from going of errands for any but the authority 
of college. ” 

And again: 

“ Agreed with Zadoc to sweep College till next com¬ 
mencement, to sweep College room and entries and 
stairs and make beds . . . wash chapel and library 
windows once a year or oftener, wash and sand chapel 
and library . . . keep the steeple stairs swept and clean, 
go of errands for the President and Tutors and do 
other small jobs for College as they shall order, and 
treat all the officers of the College with respect and 
submission. College to find him half a dozen brooms 
a year. Wages 50 shillings per month of 30 and 31 
days. To begin next Monday.” 

The college soon began to be well known in all the 
colonies. Many of its graduates took part in the 
affairs of their native town, and young men traveled 
many miles in order to study at Yale. Noah Webster, 
who wrote the dictionary, was a student at Yale when 
General Washington passed through New Haven. 
Young Webster was very proud of the fact that he was 
chosen to furnish the music for the military company 
of students which escorted the great General when he 
left the town. 


WILLIAM AND MARY COLLEGE • 


I 73 


When war began to trouble the colonies, Yale men 
helped to make plans for their defense. In the army 
they ranked from private to general, but Nathan Hale, 
of the class of 1773, whose last words were “ I only 
regret that I have but one life to lose for my country,” 
is called the hero of them all. 

48. William and Mary College, Williamsburg, 
Virginia 

Seven miles from the James River, about due north 
from Jamestown, is the site of its successor, Williams¬ 
burg, the colony’s second capital. The town is like 
a bit of old England, with its streets shaded by great 
trees; its Bruton Parish Church, built in 1715; its 
Palace Green, that surrounded the home of the gov¬ 
ernor ; its courthouse, whose stone steps were brought 
from England in 1763; its powder house, where 
Virginia’s supplies of powder were kept, beginning 
in 1714; and its many old residences that tell of men 
who dared all for liberty, and of women who were one 
with them in their devotion. 

Of chief interest in the old town is William and Mary 
College, which, though first proposed in 1618, was not 
chartered until 1693. It was the first college in 
America ever to receive a royal charter. 

Dr. James Blair went from Virginia to London to 
secure gifts for the new school. The King made a 
fine contribution, and others followed his example. 

But Dr. Blair’s most remarkable success came in 
consequence of his learning that, some time before 


174 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


his arrival, the authorities had promised forgiveness 
to pirates who, before a set day, should confess their 
crimes and give up a portion of their booty; and that 
three famous pirates had come in after the appointed 
day, so that they were arrested. He visited them in 
jail and offered to use his influence in their behalf, 
if they would consent to give to the college a portion 
of their booty. They gladly agreed; Dr. Blair’s ef¬ 
forts were successful, and they were given their liberty 
together with their treasure, minus the promised gift 
to the Virginia college. 

Another much larger gift was secured from the ex¬ 
ecutor of an estate which held money left indefinitely 
for “ pious and charitable uses.” The income from 
this endowment was to be used to keep as many 
Indian children as possible “ in meat, drink, washing, 
clothes, medicine, books, and education, from the first 
beginning of letters till they should be ready to receive 
orders and be sent abroad to convert the Indians.” 

Sir Christopher Wren, the designer of St. Paul’s 
Cathedral, London, made the plan for the building, 
which was to be two stories and a half high, 136 
feet long, and 40 feet wide, and with two wings 60 feet 
long and 25 feet wide. In 1697 it was reported to the 
governor of the province that the front and north 
side of the proposed rectangle had been completed at 
Williamsburg, and that funds were exhausted. The 
walls were more than three feet thick at the base, and 
contained 840,000 bricks, the product of a brickyard 
near by. 



i?5 


William and Mary College, Williamsburg, Virginia 














176 WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


For some years subscriptions were paid slowly, and 
interest in the college languished, but conditions im¬ 
proved when King William sent to Governor Nichol¬ 
son a proclamation urging him to “ call upon the per¬ 
sons that have promised to contribute towards the 
maintenance of the said college, to pay in full the sev¬ 
eral contributions.” 

The first of the disasters that have visited the main 
building came in 1705, when the interior was burned. 
The college was rebuilt on the old walls, as was also 
the case after the second fire of 1859. The college 
was partially burned by some Federal troops in 1862. 
It was opened again in 1867 and the building substan¬ 
tially restored in 1869. Thus, after much more than 
two hundred years, the venerable building looks al¬ 
most as it did when the first students entered its 
doors. A number of other structures have been erected 
since, including the B rafferton building in 1723, the 
house which is now occupied by the president, which 
dates from 1732, and the chapel, begun in 1729. In¬ 
terest must always center about the main structure, 
however. 

During the Revolution the president was James 
Madison, second cousin of the future President of the 
United States. The president’s house was occupied 
by Cornwallis in 1781. After his surrender French 
officers lived there. During their occupancy the house 
was badly damaged by fire, but it was repaired at the 
expense of the French Army. 

Five events of the years of the war are of special 


IN NASSAU HALL, PRINCETON 


177 


moment in the history of higher education in America. 
On December 5, 1776, the Phi Beta Kappa Society, 
the first intercollegiate fraternity in the United States, 
was organized. On December 4, 1779, the college 
was made a university, the first in the country; and 
the same year marked the beginnings of the Honor 
System of college government, of the Elective System, 
and the beginnings of the School of Law. When 
Thomas Jefferson, who was a student at William and 
Mary from 1760 to 1762, founded the University of 
Virginia, the Honor System was successfully inaugu¬ 
rated in the new institution. 

Other famous men who have been connected with 
William and Mary were George Washington, who 
was chancellor in 1788; Chief Justice John Marshall, 
student in 1781; Secretary of State Edmund Randolph, 
student in 1766; James Monroe, student in 1775. 
John Tyler was also educated there. 

It is a remarkable fact that the presidents who are 
responsible for adding to the original territory of the 
country Louisiana, Florida, Texas, and most of the 
western territory, were educated at William and Mary. 


49. In Nassau Hall, Princeton, New Jersey 

When the friends of the infant College of New Jersey, 
now Princeton University, built for its use Nassau 
Hall in Princeton, it was the wonder of the American 
colonies, and also of visitors from abroad. Its cost 
was only £2900 — about as much as a good house 


178 where our history was made 


costs today; but it was the largest stone building in the 
colonies. It was four stories high, and 175 feet long. 

The students who found quarters in the building in 
1757 soon discovered that they could have more fun 
there than was intended by those who planned it. 
Brick-paved halls ran the entire length on every floor. 
The rooms of the students, as well as the rooms of the 
tutors, whose delight it was to keep their charges out 
of mischief, opened on these halls. What was easier 
in the evening, when the young men should have been 
studying, than to run along the halls, rolling heated 
cannon balls from end to end? The frantic tutors 
tried to put a stop to the noisy game, but the boys 
proved too much for them. 

One class passed on to the next hints on having fun 
in the halls, and each succeeding class thought it must 
outdo the class before it in finding some new way to 
provide entertainment at the expense of those whose 
duty it was to keep order. Finally one class devised 
the plan of dragging a calf up the narrow iron staircase, 
and making him run in terror down the corridor. 

In the early days no lights were provided in the hall, 
so the students had their sport by the light of candles 
fastened to the walls with mud. When the door of 
a tutor opened, the candles were blown out, and he 
was unable to tell who was making the noise. Some¬ 
times heavy pieces of cordwood were piled up in the 
hall or on the staircase, so as to interfere with the prog¬ 
ress of anyone who might be coming to stop the frolics. 

Of course rules were made by those who wished to 



179 


Nassau Hall, Princeton University, Princeton, New Jersey 

Occupied in 1756. 












i8o 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


check the fun of the boys who, after studying more or 
less during the day, felt that they must prepare for 
sleep by having a noisy time. One rule read, “ No 
jumping or hollowing or any boisterous noise shall be 
suffered, nor walking in the gallery in the time of 
study.” 

Tutors were told that they must be watchful, not 
only in the evening, but in the daytime, making at least 
three trips each day to the rooms of the students, to 
see that they were “ diligent at their proper business.” 

The daily life of the boys was cared for by other rules. 
“ Every Freshman sent on an errand shall go and do it 
faithfully and make quick return,” we read. Again 
it was ordered, “ Students are to keep their hats off 
about ten rods to the President and about five to the 
tutors.” Nicknames were forbidden, and respect was 
to be paid to all older people and strangers. 

The days soon came, however, when the college 
authorities did not have to give so much attention to 
the making of rules. Patriotic fervor was kindled by 
the tales that came to the college of the resistance made 
by the colonists to the oppressive acts that finally 
led to the Declaration of Independence. When troops 
were called for, Nassau Hall was almost deserted. 
The few students who remained were sent away early 
in January, 1777, just in time to avoid the British, 
who took possession of Nassau Hall on January 3. 
Later the American general, Israel Putman, used the 
building for the colonies as barracks and as a hospital 
and a military prison. 


WHEN THERE WERE NO PUBLIC SCHOOLS 181 


But the event that gave to Nassau Hall undying 
fame took place in 1783, when the Continental Con¬ 
gress met in the building for five months. During 
that time the victorious Washington was sent for, and 
the President of Congress gave him a complimentary 
message: 

“ In other nations, many have performed eminent 
services, for which they have deserved the thanks 
of the public. But to you, Sir, peculiar praise is due. 
Your services have been essential in acquiring and es¬ 
tablishing the freedom and independence of your 
country. They deserve the grateful acknowledgments 
of a free and independent nation.” 

At the commencement exercises in June, 1783, the 
members of Congress had seats on the platform, and 
with them was Washington. That day the General 
made a gift of £ 50 to the college, and this was used to 
pay for a portrait of the giver. The portrait — placed 
in the frame from which a British cannon ball shot 
the picture of George II during the battle of Princeton, 
in 1777 — may be seen today by visitors to Nassau 
Hall. 

50. In the Days When There Were No Public Schools 

The interest taken in education by the American 
colonists was shown from the beginning of their settle¬ 
ments. No sacrifice seemed too great for those who 
planned for the welfare of the boys and girls. An 
examination of the files of the curious papers published 
in Boston or New York or Philadelphia shows that, 


182 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


though the day of the public school supported by taxa¬ 
tion was still far away, much time and thought were 
given to the problem of training the young people. 

In Philadelphia, for instance, the Weekly Mercury 
contained many advertisements of schools and teachers. 
One of these read : 

Public Notice is hereby given that there is lately arrived 
in This city one Mrs. Roder who will teach any young Ladies 
or Gentlemen to read and write French to perfection. She 
will give constant attention at her Dwelling-House in the Second 
Street in the Alley next door to Dr. Owens. She likewise teaches 
to Flourish on Muslin after the most Expeditious Way, and at 
very Reasonable Prices. She likewise draws all Manner of 
Patterns for Flourishing on Muslin and those in Fashion of 
Lace, which is very pretty and quickly learned. She likewise 
draws Patterns for Embroidery of Petticoats, &c. And those 
who have a mind to learn she will teach very reasonable. She 
hath very good Orange Oil to dispose of by the Dish of a Pound 
or Ounce; the said Oil being very good for the Wind-Colic and 
Stomach, and for many other things, and likewise Sweet-Meats 
as Lemon and Orange Peel, very well made; it will be disposed 
of by the Pound, Half-Pound, or Quarter, very Cheap. 

A schoolmaster in New York thought it worth while 
to advertise in the favorite weekly paper of Philadel¬ 
phia : 

There is a School in New York, in the Broad Street, near 
the Exchange, where Mr. John Walton, late of Yale College, 
teacheth Reading, Writing, Arithmetic, Whole Numbers and 
Fractions, Vulgar and Decimal, The Mariner’s Art, Plain and 
Mercator’s Way; also Geometry, Surveying, the Latin Tongue, 
the Greek and Hebrew Grammars, Ethics, Rhetoric, Logic, 
Natural Philosophy, and Metaphysics; all or any of them at 


WHEN THERE WERE NO PUBLIC SCHOOLS 183 


a Reasonable Price. The School from the first of October till 
the first of March will be tended in the evening. 

A Philadelphia schoolmaster was nearly as versatile 
as his New York rival. Witness his offering: 

At the Free-School in Strawberry Lane, near the Market 
House, Philadelphia, are taught Writing, Arithmetic in all its 
Parts, both Vulgar, Decimal and Doedecimal; Merchants’ 
Accounts, after the Italian manner, through all the parts of 
Commerce; Measuring all artificer’s work, gauging, dialling, 
with some other Practical Parts of the Mathematics; also 
English and Latin, by John Walby. N. B. He also teaches 
a Night School at the place aforesaid. 

Listen to another pedagogue : 

This is to give Notice, That the Subscriber hereof, being 
desirous to be as generally useful as he can in this country (where 
he is a Stranger) do Declare his willingness to Teach Logic, 
Natural Philosophy, Metaphysics, &c , to all such as are willing 
to learn. The place of Teaching will be at the Widow Sprogel’s 
in the Second Street, Philadelphia, where he will attend, if he 
has Encouragement, Three times a Week, for that Exercise. 
N. B. All persons that Come, either as a Learner or Hearer, 
will be Civilly Treated. By G. M. Minister of the Reformed 
Palatine Church. 

Then comes another strange mixture of scholarship 
and merchandise : 

“ At the House of George Browne, in Second Street, is Taught 
Reading, Writing, Cyphering, Dancing, Plan Work, Marking, 
with variety of Needle Work. Boarding for Scholars. 

N. B. A new One Horse Chaise, also Dry Fish Mackerel, 
Rhode Island Cheese, Raisins, Currants, Hops, Iron Pots and 
Kettles, Falling Axes, Glue, Cut Whale Bone, Cedar Buckets, 
Spanish Soap for fine Linen, Sieves, Fringes, Kid Gloves, Red 


184 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


Leather for Chairs and Shoes, &c., Primers, Psalters, Testaments, 
Bibles, the Classic Authors, Writing-Books, &c. To be Sold.” 

A few years after the printing of the last advertise¬ 
ment quoted, Benjamin Franklin decided that the time 
had come to have a better school than any the infant 



The Octagon Schoolhouse, Near Philadelphia 


city had yet afforded. In 1749 he published a pam¬ 
phlet, Proposals Relative to the Education of Youth in 
Pennsylvania. In this he urged an academy, and 
said: “ The house for the academy should be located 
not far from a river, and have connected with it a gar¬ 
den . . . and be furnished with a library, maps of all 
countries, globes, some mathematical instruments, an 
apparatus for experiments in natural philosophy and 
mechanics.” The pupils were to be “ frequently 
exercised in running, leaping, wrestling, and swim¬ 
ming.” 

The academy was opened in 1751. In 1753 the in- 






THE EAGLE SCHOOL 


185 


stitution was chartered, Franklin being President of 
the Board of Trustees. Two years later it was incor¬ 
porated as a college. In 1763 there were more than 
five hundred students in attendance. The outgrowth 
of the academy was the University of the State of 
Pennsylvania, chartered in 1777, which became in 1791 
a part of the University of Pennsylvania — a school 
that, in accordance with the original plan, is located 
by a river, and has a garden. 

51. The Eagle School, near Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 

In 1767 the parents west of Philadelphia, in the 
neighborhood of what is now Strafford, decided they 
must have a school for their children. So they put up 
a building, and arranged with a teacher to give the 
boys and girls the instruction they needed. The school 
flourished. The old building was outgrown, and a new 
building was erected in 1788. One of the first teachers 
in the new building was Andrew Garden, who had been 
a fifer in the Revolutionary War. 

According to an old description of the early school- 
house : “ Benches consisted of rough slabs with bark 
on, supported by wooden sticks driven into auger holes 
in the plank. These benches were arranged in double 
rows around the sides of the building, constituting a 
hollow square open at the fireplace, by which stood 
the master’s desk, and whence he and the accompany¬ 
ing birch (without which no school of that time existed) 
made frequent excursions to insure attention from the 
bodies, if not from the minds, of the pupils. At eve- 


186 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


ning meetings (for singing-school, debates, et cetera) 
no provision was made for lighting the building, except 
by candles (or an occasional lamp), which the attend¬ 
ants, in accordance with universal custom, brought 
with them and placed in rude wooden racks hung on 
the sides of the room.” 

This building was used for school purposes until 
1872. Then it was neglected for many years. But 



The Eagle Schoolhouse Near Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 


in 1895, residents of the town, feeling that something 
must be done to preserve a building where so many of 
their ancestors had been educated, asked the Court 
to appoint trustees to care for it. They said that the 
building was a trust, from givers of long ago. They 
were not able to show any paper telling of the gift. 
But the Court decided that there must have been such 
a trust, since the property had been used for school 
purposes so long; people had paid for it; probably 




THE EAGLE SCHOOL 


187 


many of them had made great sacrifices to have a part 
in it: therefore it ought to be cared for as long as it 
stood. 

When the Court appointed trustees, the building 
was in bad condition. The stone walls had been 
covered with plaster, which was falling off, and the 
whole property looked uninviting. The plaster was 
removed, the stones were repointed, and the structure 
was made to look as much as possible like the school 
to which boys and girls went in its first days. 

These children must have spent many of their recess 
periods in the old cemetery adjoining the schoolhouse, 
where there are many ancient stones. One of these 
dates back to 1757. How they must have smiled at 
one curious inscription: 

In Memor of 

Rosannah Akins 

Wif of James Akins * . 


Was Born January the 
17th 1757 and Departed 
This Life July The 10th 
1818 Aged 61 years 5 months 


I chose thy path of 
Heavenly Truth and 
Gloryed in my choice. Not 
All thy Pleasures of the 
Earth Could make me so Rejoice. 

And Seetly Tastes Unmeingled 
Love and Joy without a Tear a Bove. 


i88 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


On a neighboring stone is a rebuke of such weird 
poetry, worthy of a master of the Eagle School. At 
any rate part of it sounds like a copy book motto: 

In Memory of Margaret Workizer, Consort 
of Christian Workizer, who departed this 
Life February the 4th, 1805, in the 
55th Year of her age. 

Verses on tombstones 
Are but idly spent. 

The living character 
Is the monument. 


CHAPTER V 


IN COLONIAL HOMES 
52. The Letitia Penn House, Philadelphia 

When William Penn first planned to go to America 
to lay the foundation of his new colony by the Delaware, 
his wife, Guli Springett, whom he had married in 1672, 
was to have gone with him. But when the time came 
to leave England, she was not well enough to take pas¬ 
sage on the Welcome , so she remained behind for a 
season, keeping with her their three children. 

The farewell letter sent to her by the Proprietor of 
Pennsylvania has been preserved. In a part of it he 
said: 

“ My dear wife and children, my love, which neither 
sea, nor land, nor death itself, can extinguish or lessen 
toward you, most tenderly visits you with eternal em¬ 
braces and will abide with you forever. . . . My dear 
wife, remember thou wast the love of my youth and the 
joy of my life, the .most beloved as well as the most 
worthy of all my earthly comfort. . . . Now I am to 
leave thee, and that without knowing whether I shall 
ever see thee more in this world.” 

Penn landed at New Castle, Delaware, in October, 
1682. He had already sent forward the plan of his 
new country village; his cousin, Lieutenant Governor 
Markham, had come to America in 1681, bringing with 
him instructions for the beginning of the settlement. 

189 



I 9 0 WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 

On this plan there was evidence of Penn’s thought for 
his wife and his daughter Letitia; two lots were set 
apart for the family, on one of which he purposed build¬ 
ing, while the other he designed for Letitia. 

When he reached America, he found that, by some 
mistake, Letitia’s lot had been given to the Friends for a 


The Letitia Penn House 
Fairmount Park, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. 

meeting-house. He was vexed, but nothing could be 
done. So he decided that the lot reserved for his own 
use should be made over to her. He did not carry 
out his purpose for some time, however. 

For a while Penn remained at Upland — now Chester 
— but in 1684 he went to Philadelphia to oversee the 




THE LETITIA PENN HOUSE, PHILADELPHIA 191 


erection of the houses for the settlers. His own house 
he built on a large plot facing the Delaware River and 
south of what is now Market Street. The house was 
of brick, which was probably made near by, though 
many of the interior fittings had been brought from 
England. This was the Letitia Penn house. 

In 1694 Guli Penn died, and in 1696 Penn married 
Hannah Callowhill in England. In 1699, when he re¬ 
turned to America, he brought with him his wife and 
Letitia, who was then about twenty-five years old. 

Evidently the old house was not good enough for the 
ladies of the family. At any rate they occupied for a 
time the “ Slate Roof House,” one of the most preten¬ 
tious buildings in the colony. When the manor, Penns- 
bury, twenty miles up the Delaware, was completed, 
the family was taken there. Great style was main¬ 
tained at the country estate in the woods. The house 
had cost £5000 and was “ the most imposing house 
between the Hudson and Potomac Rivers.” 

In the meantime the Proprietor felt that he must 
return to England because of the threat of Parliament 
to change the government of the American colonies. 
Mrs. Penn and Letitia, who did not like America, 
pleaded to go with him. He thought he would be 
returning soon, and he urged them to remain. They 
insisted. In a letter to James Logan he wrote: “I 
cannot prevail on my wife to stay, and still less with 
Tish. I know not what to do.” Later he wrote: 
“ The going of my wife and Tish will add greatly to the 
expense. . . . But they will not be denied.” 


192 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


In 1702 Letitia married William Aubrey, who had 
all of Penn’s keenness and none of his genial qualities. 
Almost from the day of the marriage both husband 
and wife pestered Penn for money. Aubrey insisted 
on a prompt payment of his wife’s marriage portion. 
His father-in-law was already beginning to feel the grip 
of money troubles that later brought him to the verge 
of bankruptcy, but, on this occasion as well as later, he 
felt compelled to yield to the insistent demand of the 
grasping Aubrey. 

The only members of the Penn family who ever re¬ 
turned to America were the children of the second wife, 
to whom most of the property descended. 

53. The Ridgely House, Dover, Delaware 

On the Green in Dover, Delaware, is one of the most 
striking houses of the quaint old town — the Ridgely 
house. The time of the erection is not certain, but 
on one of the bricks is the date 1728. Originally there 
were but two rooms in the house. Later enlargements 
have been so harmonious that one who sees the place 
from the Green must pause to admire. Admiration 
turns to delight when the interior of the house is ex¬ 
amined. The old-fashioned garden at the rear inten¬ 
sifies delight. 

The house was the gift of Nicholas Ridgely, in 1769, to 
his son, Dr. Charles Greenburg Ridgely. Dr. Ridgely’s 
second wife was Ann, the daughter of Squire William 
Moore of Moore Hall, near Valley Forge, Pennsylvania. 
The Squire’s determined favoring of armed preparation 


THE RIDGELY HOUSE, DOVER, DELAWARE 193 

for defense against a threatened Indian attack once 
aroused the indignation of the Pennsylvania Assembly, 
most of whose members were Friends. 

The Ridgely house was famous throughout Delaware 
as the resort of patriots. Dr. Ridgely was six times 



The Ridgely House, Dover, Delaware 


a member of the Provincial Assembly, and was also an 
active member of the Constitutional Convention of 
Delaware in 1776. 

During the days when patriotic feeling was be¬ 
ginning to run high, Caesar Rodney, the ward of Dr. 
Ridgely’s father, often lived in the Ridgely house. 
Rodney was born near Dovei; in 1728, and at Dover 
he received most of his education. Some twenty years 
after, he became famous because of his vital service 






194 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


to the colonies, as a member of the Continental Con¬ 
gress in Philadelphia. “ He was the most active, and 
was by all odds the leading man in the state in 
espousing the American cause,” Henry C. Conrad once 
said to the Sons of Delaware. In the course of his 
address Mr. Conrad told the thrilling story of Caesar 
Rodney’s most spectacular service. 

On July i, 1776, when the vote was taken in the 
Committee of the Whole of the Continental Congress 
as to the framing and proclaiming of the Declaration of 
Independence, ten of the thirteen colonies voted Yes. 
The delegates from Pennsylvania and Delaware cast 
divided ballots, while those from New York did not 
vote. Delaware had two members present, McKean 
and Read; Rodney was absent. McKean was in favor 
of, and Read against, the Declaration. McKean, appre¬ 
ciating that it was most important, for the sentiment 
it would create, that the Declaration of Independence 
should be proclaimed by the unanimous vote of the 
thirteen colonies, sent for Rodney, who was at that 
time at one of his farms near Dover. Rodney came post¬ 
haste, and he arrived just in time to save the day, and 
cast the vote of Delaware in favor of the Declaration. 

McKean, writing of the event years afterward to 
Caesar A. Rodney, a nephew of Caesar Rodney, said: 

“ I sent an express at my own private expense, for 
your honored uncle the remaining member from Dela¬ 
ware, whom I met at the State House door, in his boots 
and spurs, as the members were assembling. After a 
friendly salutation, without a word in the business, we 


A PENNSYLVANIA FARMHOUSE 195 

went into the hall of Congress together, and found we 
were among the latest. Proceedings immediately com¬ 
menced, and after a few minutes the great question was 
put. When the vote of Delaware was called, your uncle 
arose and said : ‘As I be ieve the voice of my constitu¬ 
ents and of all sensible and honest men is in favor 
of independence, and my own judgment coincides 
with theirs, I vote for independence.’ ” 

Since Pennsylvania and New York also voted later in 
favor of the Declaration, it was adopted unanimously. 

Caesar Rodney was Governor of Delaware from 1778 
to 1781. On April 8, 1784, the State Council, of which 
he was presiding officer, met at his house near Dover, be¬ 
cause he was too ill to go to the town. Less than 
three months later he died. 

A monument marks his last resting place in the 
burial-ground of Christ Episcopal Church in Dover. 

54. A Pennsylvania Farmhouse Where 
Benjamin Franklin Visited 

At Norriton, nineteen miles from Philadelphia, stands 
an ancient stone house on lands that once belonged to 
David Rittenhouse, who, when a boy, did not take 
kindly to his father’s suggestion that he become a 
farmer; he liked to do things with tools — things that 
made him think. 

His tendency of mind was shown when he covered 
with mathematical calculations the handles of his plow 
and the fences which divided his father’s fields. He 


196 where our history was made 



was only seventeen when he made his first wooden 
clock. He was still a young man when he set up a shop 
where he made clocks and fine mathematical instru¬ 
ments. He became a surveyor, and had charge of run¬ 
ning the first lines for the survey that later became a 
part of the Mason and Dixon Line. 

His many scientific achievements brought to his 
door another famous scientist, Benjamin Franklin, 


The Rittenhouse Home, near Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 

who liked to talk over his problems with the young man 
from the country. 

In the course of the years of intimate connection Rit~ 
tenhouse must have come to know many things about 
the life of his distinguished friend. 

He learned that on July 23, 1726, when Franklin was 
twenty years old, he was a passenger on a sailing-vessel 
from England to America. The voyage was so long 






A PENNSYLVANIA FARMHOUSE 


197 


that the young printer found time hanging heavy on his 
hands. Some of his fellow-passengers tried to relieve 
the monotony by extra eating and drinking, but he 
began to plan for the new life on which he was about 
to enter. How could he make the best of it? The 
result of his thinking on that voyagd had a good deal 
to do with preparing him to be one of the makers of 
America. 

Rittenhouse was especially interested in the state¬ 
ment that young Franklin made as to his rules of action : 

1. It is necessary for me to be extremely frugal for 
some time till I have paid what I owe. 

2. To endeavor to speak truth in every instance, to 
give nobody expectations that are not likely to be an¬ 
swered, but aim at sincerity in every word and action; 
the most amiable excellence in a rational being. 

3. To apply myself industriously to whatever business 
I take in hand, and not divert my mind from my busi¬ 
ness by foolish project of growing suddenly rich; for 
industry and patience are the surest means of plenty. 

4. I resolve to speak ill of no man whatever, not 
even in a matter of truth; but rather by some means 
excuse the fault I hear charged upon others, and upon 
proper occasions, speak all the good I know of every¬ 
body. 

Nothing appealed to Rittenhouse more than the dry 
humor of Franklin. How he must have laughed when 
the experimenter told of trying an electric shock on a 
turkey ! Franklin himself received the full effect of the 
discharge and was rendered unconscious. When re- 


iq8 where our history was made 


stored, his first remark was, “Well, I meant to kill a 
turkey, and instead I nearly killed a goose.” 

In later years Rittenhouse was interested by the story 
of what was perhaps the best example of Franklin’s 
wit — the letter he sent to William Strahan of London, 
who had been his friend for many years. Once Mr. 
Strahan wrote to Mrs. Franklin concerning her hus¬ 
band : “I never saw avman who was in every respect so 
perfectly agreeable to me. Some are amiable in one 
view, some in another, he in all.” More than once 
Franklin addressed him, at the beginning of a letter, 
“Dear Straney.” But the outbreak of the War of the 
Revolution brought a change in attitude. On July 5, 
1775, Franklin wrote the famous letter that reads: 

Mr. Strahan, 

You are a Member of Parliament, and one of 
that Majority which has doomed my Country to Destruction. 
You have begun to burn our Towns, and murder our People. 
Look upon your Hands! They are stained with the Blood of 
your Relations. You and I were long Friends. You are now 
my Enemy, and 

I am, 

Yours, 

B. Franklin 

This letter is preserved in the Library of Congress at 
Washington, D. C. 

By this time Franklin had become a leader known 
not only in America, but across the Atlantic. Rit¬ 
tenhouse, too, was on the way to prominence. Later 
George Washington made him the first Director of the 
Mint of the United States. 


THE WOODLANDS,” PHILADELPHIA 


199 


55. “ The Woodlands,” Philadelphia 

In a Philadelphia cemetery, close to the buildings of 
the University of Pennsylvania and on the bank of the 
Schuylkill, there is an old stone house in which a 
lieutenant governor of the province of Pennsylvania 
once lived. It is a home of great beauty, having, among 
other attractions, what is called a Palladian window, 
of which lovers of architecture have said many fine 
things. 

The land about the house was formerly one of the 
famous gardens of colonial days, part of the property 
of William Hamilton, son of Andrew Hamilton, once 
attorney-general of the province of Pennsylvania, and 
nephew of Lieutenant Governor James Hamilton. The 
estate contained more than three hundred acres, and 
extended north beyond the Market Street of today. 
The first family mansion, “The Woodlands,” was built 
by Andrew Hamilton, and its successor, the house which 
is still standing, was built by William Hamilton about 
the time of the Revolution. 

At first there was nothing very interesting about the 
grounds, but when Mr. Hamilton went to England, 
soon after the close of the Revolution, the sight of the 
parks on the large estates led him to wonder if he could 
not improve his domain on the banks of the Schuylkill. 

He could not wait until his return to America to 
begin his garden. From England he sent seeds and 
rare plants to his secretary, with explicit directions as 
to their arrangement. When he came home, he gave 


200 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


attention to the shrubs, the trees, and the flowers. 
Many of these were brought from distant lands. Some 
of the captains of vessels which sailed down the Dela¬ 
ware carried with them commissions to bring back rare 
specimens for the garden. 

During Mr. Hamilton’s absence on business trips, 
many of the letters to his secretary were devoted to 
minute instructions about his pet plants — how they 
were to be watered, where they were to be placed, what 
things were needed to complete the beauty of the grounds. 
Once he said, “The rose bush box should be removed 
into the shade behind the hothouse, there to remain 
during the summer.” Again he wrote, “If George 
for one day neglects the necessary attendance on the 
hotbed, everything in it will be lost.” 

At length he was the proud possessor of what was 
spoken of as the best specimen of landscape gardening 
in the country. Visitors to the city went out to the 
estate in chariots, on horseback, or on foot. One of 
Mr. Hamilton’s guests, a botanist, Manasseh Cutler, 
expressed, in 1803, his admiration of the garden for 
which, as his host told him, “ there was not a rare plant 
in Europe, Asia, Africa, from China and the islands in 
the South Seas, of which he had any account, which 
he had not procured.” After walking over the lawns 
and along the paths, the enthusiasm and amazement of 
the botanist were great. 

A few months before the visit of Mr. Cutler, Mr. 
Hamilton wrote a letter which showed that he gave the 
same careful attention to the mansion as to the garden. 



Palladian Window, at “ The Woodlands,” Philadelphia 


201 














202 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


Modern sufferers from the carelessness of builders 
will sympathize with his complaints : 

“ Early in the winter I discovered accidentally that 
the plinths of the portico columns were rotten as punk, 
and that the whole of them as well as the roof was in 
jeopardy. The securing of them by underpinning with 
stone was attended with an immensity of trouble and no 
small degree of expense. This you will readily believe 
When you are told that the columns and roof were 
obliged to be raised, and supported during the opera¬ 
tion by screws of an immense force. This was hardly 
ended when an accident happened equally unlooked- 
for, and was nearly attended with most serious conse¬ 
quences. The ceiling of my dining-parlor (in conse¬ 
quence of the rascality of-in laying the plaster to 

the thickness of from four to five inches) came down at 
once (without the smallest previous notice) with such 
force as to crush all in the way and shook the house 
like an aspen leaf, and with such a noise that the 
family at Weeds came out at the ferry-house to know 
what cannon had fired so near them.” 

Most of the rare plants have disappeared from the 
grounds of “The Woodlands,” which have been used 
since 1839 as a cemetery, but the visitor will see that 
the stone supports which were placed under the 
columns of the portico are still doing their work. 

66. Doughoregan Manor, Maryland 

Among those who signed the Declaration of Inde¬ 
pendence was Charles Carroll, who was a rich man 



203 


Doughoregan Manor, near Ellicott City, Maryland 

















204 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


for his day. He knew that he risked all his property, 
but he did not hesitate to let his name appear. Like 
thousands of others he was ready to give up all for the 
cause of liberty. 

One of his valued possessions was a beautiful country- 
seat, Doughoregan Manor, in Maryland. The mansion 
was built in 1717, twenty-nine years after the first 
Charles Carroll came to America from England. The 
house was twenty years old when Charles Carroll, 3d, 
was born. Most of the education of this heir to the vast 
estate of Charles Carroll, 2d, was secured in France. 
He was in Paris when his father wrote to him, in 1764, 
telling him of the large property that was to come to 
him. The letter concluded : 

“On my death I am willing to add my Manor of 
Doughoregan, 10,000 acres, and also 1425 acres called 
'Chance’ adjacent thereto, on the bulk of which my 
negroes are settled. As you are my only child, you will, 
of course, have all the residue of my estate at my death.” 

When his father’s fortune finally came into his hands, 
Charles Carroll, 3d, was the richest man in Maryland. 
That he knew how to handle such large possessions, he 
showed by a letter which he wrote to his son, Charles 
Carroll, 4th, on July 10, 1801 : 

“He who postpones till tomorrow what can and 
ought to be done today, will never thrive in this world. 
It was not by procrastination this estate was acquired, 
but by activity, thought, perseverance, and economy, 
and by the same means it must be preserved and pre¬ 
vented from melting away.” 


THE LEE MANSION, MARBLEHEAD 


205 


But while the owner of Doughoregan Manor was 
careful, he was ncft miserly. He kept open house to his 
numerous friends, of whom George Washington was 
one. In one of the rooms of the manor Washington 
sat to Gilbert Stuart for his portrait. 

Both Mr. CarrolEs property and his services were at 
his country’s call. From the days of the Stamp Act to 
the close of the Revolution there was no more ardent 
patriot than he. He served as a member of the Con¬ 
tinental Congress, was for three months with Washing¬ 
ton at Valley Forge, was later United States Senator, 
and was a leader in business as well as in political affairs. 
With Washington he was a member from the beginning 
of the Potomac Canal Company, which later was merged 
into the Chesapeake and Ohio Canal Company. 

After the Revolution he spent most of his time at 
Doughoregan Manor, where he completed the remarkable 
three-hundred-foot facade by the addition of the chapel 
which has been used by the family for more than a cen¬ 
tury. 

When Charles Carroll died, on November 14, 1832, 
the last of the signers of the Declaration of Inde¬ 
pendence had gone. 

57. The Lee Mansion, Marblehead, Massachusetts 

“The Lee Mansion is to be sold at auction. Isn’t it 
a pity! ” the people of Marblehead were saying in the 
summer of 1907. 

When the building fell under the auctioneer’s hammer 
for $3500, and it was rumored that the historic house 


206 where our history was made 

was to be ruthlessly shorn of its carvings and beautiful 
staircase, public feeling was deeply* stirred. It was 
the Marblehead Historical Society which came to the 
rescue. For a number of years this organization had 
been occupying the brick building next door, formerly 
the slave quarters of the mansion. The members now 
started a campaign to raise money, with the Lee Man¬ 
sion as their slogan. In July, 1909, the house came 
into their possession, and ever since it has been the 
home of the society. 

When Jeremiah Lee came to the little port of Marble¬ 
head, he at once made a place for himself among the 
humble fishermen and other seafaring men of the place. 
He was a member of the Board of Firewardens in the 
town’s first fire department, and he served on important 
town committees. When, in 1768, he built a mansion 
that cost a fabulous sum, the most wonderful house 
in Massachusetts at the time, his townsmen knew him 
well enough to understand that he was their good friend, 
even if he did have much more money than any of them. 

The Lee Mansion was a hospitable home, and there 
were often great parties there, when the square-paned 
windows were ablaze with candle-light. The Colonel 
and his wife Martha welcomed not only the people of 
the town, but famous men from abroad. In 1781 
Washington was their guest at luncheon, as Lafayette 
was also some years later. President Monroe was en¬ 
tertained by them, and from the doorway of their home 
Andrew Jackson shook hands with the Marblehead 
fishermen. 



THE LEE MANSION, MARBLEHEAD 207 

But it was one of the glories of the mansion that 
the humblest mariner in the place was not slow to go 
there if he wished to have a chat with the bluff owner, 
or if he desired to climb the stairs to the quaint cupola 
from which it is possible to look far out over the ocean. 
To this outlook Colonel Lee himself often went, for his 


The Lee Mansion, Marblehead, Massachusetts 

ships were sailing to Marblehead from all parts of the 
world, and he was as eager as anyone to turn his eyes 
seaward. 

The house is sixty-four feet by forty-six feet, and the 
walls are of brick, though they are covered with wooden 
clapboards. There are nineteen rooms, in addition to 
the stately halls. The pictured wall paper was made 
especially for the house in 1768 in Regent Street, Lon- 




208 where our history was made 

don, and is still in good repair. Life-size portraits of 
Colonel Lee and his wife were painted for the mansion 
by Copley in 1769. They now hang in the Boston Art 
Museum in the original frames, which, it is said, were 
carved by Paul Revere. 

There were eight Lee children, and they must have 
had jolly times on rainy days playing tag in the great 
halls, and hide-and-seek in the secret staircase which 
led to the tower. They could run through the passage 
to the slave quarters, and play in the family coach which 
was kept there on the lower floor. Upstairs were the 
rooms for the slaves, who, during the day, were kept 
busy loading and unloading the Colonel's ships in 
the harbor. 

In his princely home the Colonel conferred with 
other patriots as to the welfare of Massachusetts and 
all the colonies. From its doorway he went out to the 
town meetings where the men gathered to talk over the 
Boston Port Bill and the Boston Tea Party and ques¬ 
tions of taxation without representation. 

He rejoiced to serve in the General Court and on the 
Committee of Safety and Supplies of the province. 
He was chosen to represent the town in the Continental 
Congress, and when he was unable to go, Elbridge 
Gerry, who later became Vice President of the United 
States, was sent in his place at the expense of the town. 

On the night of April 18, 1775, in company with El¬ 
bridge Gerry and Azor Orne, who were members with 
him of the Committee of Safety and Supplies, Colonel 
Lee was attending a meeting at Weatherby’s Black 


THE WENTWORTH HOUSE, PORTSMOUTH 209 


Horse Tavern, just outside of Cambridge. The meeting 
adjourned so late that the three men decided to spend 
the night at the tavern. The eight hundred British 
soldiers who were on their way that night to Lexington 
learned of the presence in Cambridge of these patriots. 
Some one rushed to the tavern and roused them from 
slumber. They did not even have time to put on their 
clothes, but ran at once from the house and hid them¬ 
selves some distance from the tavern. When the dis¬ 
appointed troops had gone on, the hunted men returned 
to their rooms. 

Three weeks later Lee died as a result of the expo¬ 
sure. He has been called one of the earliest martyrs to 
the cause of the colonies. Before he died, he left direc¬ 
tions that £5000 should be given to the treasury of the 
province. 

68. The Wentworth House, Portsmouth, 

New Hampshire 

It was a pleasant mansion, an abode 

Near and yet hidden from the great high road, 

Sequestered among trees, a noble pile, 

Baronial and colonial in its style; 

Gables and dormer-windows everywhere, 

And stacks of chimneys rising high in air — 

Pandean pipes, on which all winds that blew 
Made mournful music the whole winter through. 

Within, unwonted splendors met the eye, 

Panels, and floors of oak, and tapestry; 

Carved chimney-pieces, where on brazen dogs 
Revelled and roared the Christmas fire of logs; 


210 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 



Doors opening into darkness unawares, 

Mysterious passages, and flights of stairs, 

And on the walls, in heavy gilded frames, 

The ancestral Wentworths with Old-Scripture names. 

Thus Longfellow described the great house built 
in Portsmouth, New Hampshire, in 1750 by Governor 
Benning Wentworth. There were fifty-two rooms in 
the original house, many of them, of course, small, but 
others of impressive size, notably the Council Chamber, 
where were held meetings that helped to make history. 


The Wentworth House, Portsmouth, New Hampshire 

While Governor Wentworth was an important figure 
during the days preceding the Revolution, the mansion 
is celebrated not so much because of his political ser¬ 
vice as because of the romance of his second marriage. 

Martha Hilton, the heroine of this romance, was 
“a careless, laughing, bare-footed girl.” One day a 



THE WENTWORTH HOUSE, PORTSMOUTH 211 

neighbor saw her, in a short dress, carrying a pail of 
water in the street. “You, Pat! You, Pat! Why 
do you go looking so? You should be ashamed to be 
seen in the street!” was the shocked comment. But 
the answer was not what the neighbor expected. “No 
matter how I look, I shall ride in my chariot yet, Marm.” 

The story of what followed is told by Charles W. 
Brewster, a historian of old Portsmouth : 

“Martha Hilton afterwards left home, and went to 
live in the Governor’s mansion at Little Harbor, doing 
the work of the kitchen, and keeping the house in order, 
much to the Governor’s satisfaction. . . . The Gov¬ 
ernor had invited a dinner party, and with many other 
guests, in his cocked hat came the beloved Rev. Arthur 
Brown, of the Episcopal church. The dinner was 
served up in a style becoming the Governor’s table. . . . 
There was.a whisper from the Governor to a messenger, 
and at his summons, Martha Hilton came in from 
the door on the west of the parlor, and, with blushing 
countenance, stood in front of the fireplace. She seemed 
heedless of the fire — she did not appear to have brought 
anything in, nor did she seem to be looking for any¬ 
thing to carry out. There she stood! a damsel of 
twenty summers — for what, no visitor could tell. 

“The Governor, bleached by the frosts of sixty win¬ 
ters, rose. ‘ Mr. Brown, I wish you to marry me.’ ‘ To 
whom?’ asked his pastor, in wondering surprise. ‘To 
this lady,’ was the reply. The rector stood confounded. 
The Governor became imperative. ‘ As the Governor of 
New Hampshire, I command you to marry me!’ The 


212 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


ceremony was then duly performed, and from that time 
Martha Hilton was Lady Wentworth.’ 7 

Longfellow’s record of the incident is given in the 
poem, “Lady Wentworth” : 

The years came and .... the years went, seven in all, 

And all these years had Martha Hilton served 
In the Great House, not wholly unobserved: 

By day, by night, the silver crescent grew, 

Though hidden by clouds, the light still shining through; 

A maid of all work, whether coarse or fine, 

A servant who made service seem divine! 

Through her each room was fair to look upon; 

The mirrors glistened, and the brasses shone, 

The very knocker at the outer door, 

If she but passed, was brighter than before. 

Then came the strange marriage scene: 

Can this be Martha Hilton ? It must be! 

Yes, Martha Hilton, and no other she! 

Dowered with the beauty of her twenty years, 

How ladylike, how queenlike she appears; 

The pale, thin crescent of the days gone by 
Is Dian now in all her majesty! 

Yet scarce a guest perceived that she was there 
Until the Governor, rising from his chair, 

Played slightly with his ruffles, then looked down 
And said unto the Reverend Arthur Brown: 

“This is my birthday: it shall likewise be 
My wedding day, and you shall marry me!” 

59. The Rebecca Motte House, Charleston, South 
Carolina 

When the fight of the colonies for their independence 
began, Mrs. Rebecca Motte owned a beautiful home 


THE REBECCA MOTTE HOUSE, CHARLESTON 213 


in Charleston, South Carolina. Knowing that it was 
impossible for her husband to become a soldier, be¬ 
cause of his failing health, she decided to do her part 
for her country. Fortifications were to be built, and 
many laborers were needed, so she sent to her planta¬ 
tion on the Congaree River, thirty or forty miles from 
Columbia, for all the able-bodied men. These slaves 
she placed at the disposal of the men in charge of the 
work of defense in Charleston. 

She had her reward when, first in 1776, and again 
in 1779, the British forces were unable to secure pos¬ 
session of the town. The third attempt, made by Sir 
Henry Clinton in 1780, was successful. For nearly 
three years the town was in the enemy’s control. The 
Motte house was made headquarters by Clinton and his 
staff. The Mottes were crowded into a small room, 
while the British lived in comfort in the large apart¬ 
ments. Mrs. Motte divided her time between her 
invalid husband, her timid daughters, and the invaders. 
It was her custom to preside at the long dinner table, 
but the young ladies were never allowed to appear in 
the presence of the officers. 

After the death of Mr. Motte, in January, 1781, Mrs. 
Motte and her daughters secured permission to leave 
Charleston, that they might retire to the family planta¬ 
tion. Their request was granted; but they were dis¬ 
appointed in their desire to be alone, for it was not 
long till the English decided to build on the estate one 
of their long line of military stations. Earthworks 
were thrown up around the house, which became known 



214 WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 

as Fort Motte. Again the family were crowded into a 
few rooms, while officers occupied the remainder. 

After a time Mrs. Motte was asked to withdraw 
to a small house on the plantation, a rough structure, 
covered with weather-boards, unplastered, and only 
partially lined. At first it seemed that there was no 
place here to conceal the silverware brought from 


The Rebecca Motte House, Charleston, South Carolina 

Fort Motte. How the difficulty was solved has been 
told in Worthy Women of Our First Century: 

“Some one suggested that the unfinished state of the 
walls of their sitting-room afforded a convenient hiding 
place; and they set to work to avail themselves of it. 
Nailing tacks in the vacancy between the outer and 
inner boarding, and tying strings around the various 








THE REBECCA MOTTE HOUSE, CHARLESTON 215 

pieces of silver, they hung them along the inner wall. 
Shortly afterwards a band of marauders did actually 
invade the premises; and one more audacious than the 
others jumped on a chair and thrust his bayonet into 
the hollow wall, saying he would soon find what they 
had come in search of; but, rapping all along on the 
floor within the wall, he did not once strike anything to 
reward his perseverance.” 

After a time General Marion and Colonel Lee led the 
troops for the siege of. Fort Motte. Fearing that British 
reenforcements were on the way, they decided they 
must make an attack at once. The best way seemed to 
be to set fire to the main building. The American lead¬ 
ers, knowing that this was the home of Mrs. Motte, 
took counsel with her. “Do not hesitate a moment,” 
was the prompt reply of the patriotic woman. Then she 
added, “I will give you something to facilitate the de¬ 
struction.” So saying, she handed to General Lee a 
quiver of arrows from the East Indies which, so she had 
been told by the ship-captain who brought them to 
Charleston, would set on fire any wood against which 
they were thrown. 

Two of the arrows were shot from a gun without 
result, but the third set fire to the shingles of the house. 
The efforts of the garrison to extinguish the flames were 
in vain, and before long the fortress was surrendered 
to the patriots. In later years, when Mrs. Motte was 
praised for her part in the siege, she was accustomed to 
say, “Too much has been made of a thing that any 
American woman would have done.” 


216 where our history was made 

The mansion in Charleston which she made famous 
should be called the Brewton House, or the Motte 
House. But a Motte married an Alston, and an Alston 
married a Pringle, and so many Pringles have been 
associated with the place that their name is popularly 
given to it. 

60 . Gunston Hall on the Potomac, Virginia 

George Washington and George Mason were friends 
and neighbors. Gunston Hall, the Mason home, was a 
few miles from Mount Vernon, on the Potomac, and 
Washington was a frequent visitor there. 

Mason was as often at Mount Vernon as Washington 
was at Gunston Hall. After a visit to Mount Vernon 
made on Christmas Day, 1783, one of the guests, Miss 
Lewis, of Fredericksburg, wrote: 

“ Among the most notable of the callers was Mr. 
George Mason, of Gunston Hall, who was on his way 
home from Alexandria, and who brought a charming 
granddaughter with him. He is said to be one of the 
greatest statesmen and wisest men in Virginia. We had 
heard much of him, and were delighted to look in his 
face, hear him speak, and take his hand, which he offered 
in a courtly manner. He is slight in figure, but not tall, 
and has a grand head and clear gray eyes.” 

To the home of George Mason other men of note 
delighted to come. In the guest rooms Jefferson and 
Richard Henry Lee, as well as Washington, slept more 
than once. Patrick Henry, too, was a welcome visitor 
at Gunston Hall. George Mason had as high an opinion 


GUNSTON HALL, VIRGINIA 


217 


of the orator as Patrick Henry had of the statesman. 
“ He is by far the most powerful speaker I ever heard,” 
Mason once said of Henry; “ every word he says not 
only engages but commands the attention; but his 
eloquence is the smallest part of his merit. He is in my 
opinion the first man upon this continent, as well in 
abilities as public virtues.” 

The orator returned the compliment by calling Mason 
one of the two greatest statesmen he ever knew. 



Gunston Hall, Virginia 
T he home of George Mason. 


George Mason’s statesmanlike vision was seen in 
1766, when he warned the British public of the results 
that would follow compulsion. “ Three millions of peo¬ 
ple driven to desperation are not an object of contempt,” 
he wrote. Again he proved a good prophet when he 
wrote to George Washington, on April 2, 1776, after 
the General took possession of Boston: 





218 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


“ I congratulate you most heartily upon this glorious 
and important event — an event which will render 
George Washington’s name immortal in the annals of 
America, endear his memory to the latest posterity, 
and entitle him to those thanks which heaven appointed 
as the reward of public virtue.” 

Mason was of a retiring disposition, and he would 
have preferred to remain at home. But he was forced 
into the councils of the Virginia Convention, and during 
his service there he prepared the marvelous Bill of 
Rights which was later made a part of the constitution 
of that state and was the model for similar documents 
in many other states. He was also the author of 
the constitution of Virginia, and the designer of the 
state seal. He was a member of the Constitutional 
Convention in Philadelphia, where he proved him¬ 
self “ the champion of the State and the author of the 
doctrine of State Rights.” Because the Constitution 
as finally drafted by the convention contained so many 
provisions that he felt were dangerous, he refused to sign 
the document, “ declaring that he would sooner chop 
off his right hand than put it to the Constitution,” whose 
provisions he could not approve. 

61. Mount Vernon, Virginia 

On the Virginia shore of the Potomac, sixteen miles 
south of the city of Washington, is Mount Vernon, the 
home of George Washington. 

The house was built in 1743, by Lawrence Washing¬ 
ton, half-brother of George Washington. When Law- 


MOUNT VERNON, VIRGINIA 


219 


rence Washington inherited the estate from his father, 
it was called Hunting Creek, but he changed the name to 
Mount Vernon, in honor of the English Admiral Vernon, 
under whom he had served against Spain. 

Lawrence Washington was the guardian of George 
Washington. George Washington owned another estate 
of his father’s on the Rappahannock, near Fredericks¬ 
burg, Virginia, yet he spent a large part of his boyhood 
at Mount Vernon, and learned to think of the place as 
his home. 

He did not dream that it would ever belong to him. 
But when Lawrence Washington and his infant 
daughter died, the estate came into the hands of 
George Washington. He went there to live soon after 
his marriage in 1759, and there for fifteen years he en¬ 
joyed the life of a Virginia country gentleman, directing 
the work of the plantation, and interesting himself in 
all public affairs. 

From the time when he was sent to Philadelphia 
as a member of the First Continental Congress, until 
the close of the Revolutionary War, he rarely saw 
Mount Vernon. After the independence of the colonies 
had been won, he returned home. 

That he might have more room for his friends, he en¬ 
larged the house. He liked to have guests, and his home 
was open to all travelers who came that way. 

But Washington was not allowed to remain at Mount 
Vernon many years; his country again needed him, 
this time as President of the United States. For most 
of the time during eight years he was compelled to be 


220 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


absent. But at length he could resume the free life at 
Mount Vernon. Three years were crowded full of 
hospitality in the mansion and of joyous work on the 
farm. 

In December, 1799, Washington caught a cold while 
riding over his property, and after a brief illness, he 
passed away. He was buried within sight of the house 
in which he had spent so many happy years. The 
'estate was left to his “ dearly beloved wife, Martha 
Washington. ” 

For many years Mount Vernon continued its hospita¬ 
ble career. But when, in 1853, a member of the Wash¬ 
ington family was obliged to consider disposing of the 
place, a courageous and patriotic woman in South 
Carolina, Miss Ann Pamela Cunningham, resolved to 
save Mount Vernon for the nation. She appealed to 
the women of the United States, and organized an 
association which succeeded in raising $200,000. Many 
thousands of school children gave five cents each to¬ 
ward the fund. Edward Everett contributed, in all, 
$69,000. In 1858 Mount Vernon became the property 
of the Mount Vernon Ladies’ Association of the 
Union. Each year thousands of loyal Americans 
make a pilgrimage to this patriotic shrine. 

The house faces east, and stands on a bluff over¬ 
looking the river. It is built of wood, painted white 
and cut in imitation of stone. It is ninety-six feet 
long and thirty feet deep, with a piazza fifteen feet 
wide, which is tiled with flags brought from the Isle of 
Wight. Near by are the outbuildings — the wash- 



221 


Mount Vernon, Virginia 
The home of George Washington. 
















222 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


house, the smokehouse, the ice house, the green¬ 
houses, the slave quarters, and the farm offices. There 
is a spinning house, filled with ancient looms and 
spinning wheels, and a coach house, where an ancient 
coach may still be seen. 

In front of the mansion are shaded lawns, with a deer 
park below. Behind are lawns and orchards, and 
the box-bordered garden where Martha Washington 
liked to go. In the garden are sold cuttings of the 
Mary Washington rose, named by George Washington 
for his mother. The elm near the entrance to the 
grounds was grown from a slip from the Washington 
Elm in Cambridge — the tree under which Washing¬ 
ton took command of his army. Many of the trees 
planted by Washington himself are still flourishing. 

On the west lawn is the sun-dial, the gift of the state 
of Rhode Island, placed on the spot where Washing¬ 
ton watched the moving shadow on his sun-dial. 

The house has been repaired and put in order. Each 
room is in charge of some state, and has been restored, 
so far as possible, to its original likeness. For example, 
Massachusetts has furnished the library, and Virginia 
the room in which Washington died. 

On the ground floor a long entrance hall runs through 
the house, and there are five rooms besides the banquet 
hall — the music room, west parlor, family dining 
room, Mrs. Washington’s sitting room, and the library. 
The two kitchens are connected with the main house by 
colonnades. On the two upper floors are the family bed¬ 
rooms, and the guest rooms which were once occupied 


MOUNT VERNON, VIRGINIA 


223 


by the many famous people welcomed in that hos¬ 
pitable mansion. 

Mementos of Washington’s personal life and of his 
national career have been brought together there, in¬ 
cluding a powder horn used by a minute man at Concord, 
and a brick from Fraunces’ Tavern in New York City, 
where Washington took leave of his officers. On the 
walls hang portraits of George and Martha Washing¬ 
ton ; of John Adams; of Moultrie, Pickens, Marion, and 
Sumter; of David Rittenhouse and Hamilton; and 
of Lafayette. In the* entrance hall are three of the 
swords which Washington left to his nephews, with the 
command “ not to unsheath them . . . except it be 
for self-defense or in defense of their country and its 
rights; and in the latter case to keep them unsheathed 
and prefer falling with them in their hands, to the re¬ 
linquishment -thereof.” In the banquet hall is a marble 
mantelpiece made in Italy, and sent as a gift to Wash¬ 
ington by an Englishman. The story is told that while 
this mantel was on its way to America, it was captured 
by French pirates, and that, when they heard that it 
was a present for Washington, they allowed it to con¬ 
tinue its journey unharmed. 

When Washington inherited Mount Vernon, there 
were twenty-five hundred acres included in the es¬ 
tate. He subsequently extended the boundaries of 
the plantation to include eight thousand acres. When 
the property was bought by the Mount Vernon Asso¬ 
ciation, there were only two hundred acres. Thirty- 
seven acres have been added since that time. The 


224 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


grounds have been restored. California repaired the 
wharf, ’and Missouri the garden wall. The summer 
house was renovated by the school children of Louisi¬ 
ana. Michigan put in order the old tomb in which 
Washington’s body was first laid to rest. 

But the old tomb was insecure. In 1837 the body of 
Washington was placed, with that of his wife, in a new 
tomb at the foot of the hill on the south side of the 
house. This tomb is a plain brick structure with an 
ivy-covered gateway. Other members of the Wash¬ 
ington family are buried within ‘the vault, but in the 
front of the tomb, visible through the iron gateway, 
are two marble sarcophagi, one inscribed Washington, 
and the other, Martha, Consort of Washington. 

In writing of Mount Vernon, Edward Everett said: 

“ The love and gratitude of united America settle 
upon it in one eternal sunshine. From beneath that 
humble roof went forth the intrepid, unselfish warrior, 
the magistrate who knew no glory but his country’s 
good ; to that he returned, happiest when his work was 
done. There he lived in noble simplicity; there he 
died in . . . peace. . . . The memory and the name 
of Washington shall shed an eternal glory on the spot.” 


CHAPTER VI 


STORIES OF THE WINNING OF INDEPENDENCE 

62. Faneuil Hall, Boston, Massachusetts 

When Peter Faneuil, in 1740, proposed to the town 
of Boston the gift of a market house, to be erected in 
Dock Square, his offer led to much debate. As the 
nephew and heir of Andrew Faneuil, who had come to 
Boston from France in 1691, he owned much property 
in the city, and he wished to use some of it for his fellow- 
townsmen. 

On July 14, 1740, there was a meeting to consider the 
proposed gift of Peter Faneuil, who, it was announced, 
“hath been generously pleased to offer, at his own 
proper cost and charge, to erect and build a noble and 
complete structure or edifice to be improved for a 
market, for the sole use, benefit and advantage of the 
town, provided that the town of Boston would pass 
a vote for the purpose, and lay the same under such 
proper regulation as shall be thought necessary, and 
constantly support it for the said use.” 

The vote was passed, but by a small majority. 

The average giver would have been discouraged by 
such a reception; but Peter Faneuil, on the contrary, 
did more than he had proposed. When the selectmen 
were told in August, 1742 — seven months before his 
death — that the building was ready, there was not 

225 


2 26 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


only a market house, but above it a hall for town meet¬ 
ings and other gatherings, which — by action of the 
meeting called to accept the building — was named 
Faneuil Hall. The committee appointed to wait on 
Mr. Faneuil with a vote of thanks of the town, re¬ 
ported his answer, in which he expressed his hope that 
what he had done might be for the service of the whole 
country. 

The town offices were removed to the building, and 
the hall at once became a Boston institution. Town 
meetings were held in it, and a series of public con¬ 
certs was given there. The market, however, was not 
popular. 

The fire of January 13, 1763, destroyed the interior 
of the building. It was rebuilt with money raised 
by a lottery. 

Faneuil Hall began its national career on August 
27, 1765, when the voters, in mass meeting, denounced 
the lawless acts of “ persons unknown/’ by which they 
had shown their hatred of the Stamp Act. At a second 
meeting, held on September 12, the voters instructed 
their representatives “as to their conduct at this very 
alarming crisis.” 

“The Genuine Sons of Liberty” gathered in the hall 
March 18, 1767,* that they might rejoice together be¬ 
cause of the repeal of the Stamp Act. The Boston 
Gazette reported that “a large company of the principal 
inhabitants crowded that spacious apartment, and with 
loud huzzas, and repeated acclamations at each of the 
twenty-five toasts, saluted the glorious and memorable 


« 



Faneuil Hall, Boston, Massachusetts 


227 





















228 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


heroes of America, particularly those who distinguished 
themselves in the cause of Liberty, which was ever 
growing under the iron hand of oppression.” 

What has been called “ perhaps the most dramatic 
scene in all history” was staged in Faneuil Hall on the 
day after the Boston Massacre, March 6, 1770. The 
crowd was so large that it was necessary to adjourn 
to the Old South Meeting-House before action could 
be taken requesting the Governor to withdraw the 
troops whose presence had led to the massacre. 

Then came the tea meetings. The first of these was 
held in the hall on November 5, 1773. At this meeting 
committees were appointed to wait on the several 
persons to whom tea had been consigned by the East 
India Company, “and in the name of the town to re¬ 
quest them from a regard to their character, and to the 
peace and good order of the town, immediately to re¬ 
sign their trust.” The response made to these commit¬ 
tees and to later tea meetings was unsatisfactory, and 
on December 16 a number of citizens disguised as 
Indians gathered at the water front and held the 
Boston Tea Party. 

The occupation of Boston by the British interrupted 
the Faneuil Hall town meetings, but soon after the 
evacuation of the city the people turned their steps 
thither for public gatherings of many sorts. Fortu¬ 
nately, the building which had meant so much to the 
people had not been seriously injured. When Wash¬ 
ington entered the city, he spoke with feeling of the 
safety of Faneuil Hall. 


THE OLD STATE HOUSE, BOSTON 


229 


It was fitting that, in the stirring days that pre¬ 
ceded the War of 1812, meetings to protest against the 
acts of Great Britain should be held here. Historic 
gatherings followed during this war, as also during the 
Civil War. 

In 1806 Faneuil Hall was enlarged and improved. 
In 1898 it was rebuilt and made fireproof, though, 
wherever possible, original materials were used. While’ 
it is now much larger, its general appearance is similar 
to that “Cradle of Liberty” of which Lafayette said: 

“May Faneuil Hall ever stand, a monument to 
teach the world that resistance to oppression is a duty, 
and will, under true republican institutions, become a 
blessing. ” 

63. The Old State House, Boston, Massachusetts 

The Old State House in Boston was rebuilt in 1748, 
but the walls are the same as those of the structure 
that was erected in 1712, and known as the Town and 
Province House. 

If these walls could talk, what stirring stories they 
would relate! They would tell, for instance, of the 
events noted by John Tudor in his diary. He wrote: 

“March, 1770. On Monday evening the 5th cur¬ 
rent, a few minutes after nine o’clock, a most horrid 
murder was committed on King Street before the Cus¬ 
tom House door by eight or nine soldiers under the 
command of Captain Thomas Preston of the Main 
Guard on the south side of the Town House. This 
unhappy affair began by some boys and young fellows 


230 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


throwing snowballs at the sentry placed at the Custom 
House door. On which eight or nine soldiers came to 
his assistance. Soon after, numbers of people collected, 
when the Captain commanded the soldiers to fire; 
which they did, and three men were killed on the spot 
and several mortally wounded, one of which died next 
morning. . . . 

“ Lieutenant Governor Hutchinson, who was Com¬ 
mander in Chief, was sent for, and came to the 
Council Chamber, where some of the magistrates 
attended. The Governor desired the multitude about 
ten o’clock to separate and to go home peaceably and 
he would do all in his power that justice should be 
done. . . . The 29th Regiment being there under 
arms on the south side of the Town House . . . the 
people insisted that the soldiers should be ordered to 
the barracks first before they would separate. Which 
being done, the people separated about one o’clock.” 

On July 18, 1776, the Declaration of Independence 
was read to assembled patriots in the Town House, in 
accordance with the request of John Hancock, Presi¬ 
dent of the Continental Congress, who asked that it 
be proclaimed “in such a mode that the people may be 
impressed by it.” 

Abigail Adams told of the reading in a letter to her 
husband, John Adams: 

“I went with the multitude to King Street to hear 
the Declaration Proclamation of Independence read 
and proclaimed. Great attention was given to every 
word. . . . Thus ends royal authority in the state.” 



The Old State House, Boston, Massachusetts 


231 



























2 3 2 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


A British prisoner on parole, who was an invited 
guest at the reading of the Declaration, wrote a detailed 
narrative of the events of the day in the Town House. 
He said: 

“Exactly as the clock struck one, Colonel Crafts, 
who occupied the chair, rose, and, silence being ob¬ 
tained, read aloud the declaration, which announced 
to the world that the tie of allegiance and protection, 
which had so long held Britain and her North American 
colonies together, was forever separated. This being 
finished, the gentlemen stood up, and each, repeating 
the words as they were spoken by an officer, swore to 
uphold, at the sacrifice of life, the rights of his country. 
Meanwhile the town clerk read from the balcony the 
Declaration of Independence to the crowd; at the 
close of which, a shout began in the hall, passed like an 
electric spark to the streets, which rang with loud 
huzzas, the slow and measured boom of cannon, and 
the rattle of musketry.” 

Thirteen years later, when Washington visited Bos¬ 
ton, passing first through a triumphal arch, he entered 
the State House by the eastern door under the balcony. 
In his diary he told of what followed : 

“Three cheers was given by a vast concourse of 
people, who by this time had assembled at the arch — 
then followed an ode composed in honor of the Presi¬ 
dent; and well sung by a band of select singers — 
after this three cheers — followed by the different 
professions and mechanics in the order they were drawn 
up, with their colors, through a lane of the people 


THE OLD STATE HOUSE, BOSTON 233 

which had thronged about the arch under which they 
passed.” 

The ode sung that day was as follows: 

General Washington, the hero’s come, 

Each heart exulting hears the sound; 

See, thousands their deliverer throng, 

And shout his welcome all around. 

Now in full chorus bursts the song, 

And shout the deeds of Washington. 

The Old State House was near destruction in 1835, 
as a result of the uproar that followed the attempt of 
William Lloyd Garrison to make an abolition address 
in the hall next door to the office of the Liberator , of 
which paper he was editor. A furious crowd demanded 
his blood, and he was persuaded to retire. Later the 
doors of the Liberator office where he had taken refuge 
were broken down, and, after a chase, the hunted man 
was seized and dragged to the rear of the Old State 
House, then used as the city’hall and post office. The 
mayor rescued him from the mob, which was talking 
of hanging him, and carried him into the building. 
The threats of the outwitted people became so loud 
that it was feared the place would be destroyed and 
Garrison would be killed. As soon as possible, there¬ 
fore, he was spirited away to the Leverett Street Jail. 

For many years, until 1882, the Old State House 
was used for business purposes, after previous service 
as Town House, and State House, City Hall, and 
Court House. It is now used as a historical museum 
by the Bostonian Society. 


234 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


The walls and ceilings of the interior are the same 
as when the old building was erected in 1748. For 
many years the exterior was covered with unsightly 
paint, but this has been scraped off, and the brick 
walls gleam red as in former days. 

64 . Carpenters’ Hall, Philadelphia 

Philadelphia was but forty-two years old when a 
number of builders in the growing town decided to 
have a guild like the journeymen’s guilds of London. 
Accordingly they formed, in 1724, “the Carpenters’ 
Company of the City and County of Philadelphia,” 
whose object should be “to obtain instruction in the 
science of architecture; to assist such of the members, 
or the widows and children of members, as should be 
by accident in need of support,” as well as “the adop¬ 
tion of such a system of measurements and prices that 
every one concerned in a building may have the value of 
his money, and every workman the worth of his labor.” 

At first the meetings were held here and there, prob¬ 
ably in taverns. In 1768 the company decided to 
build a home. A lot was secured on Chestnut Street, 
between Third and Fourth Streets, for which an annual 
ground rent of “176 Spanish milled pieces of eight” 
was to be paid. The sum of £ 300 necessary to begin 
operations was subscribed in about a week. 

The company’s annual meeting of January 21, 1771, 
was held within the walls, though the building was not 
entirely completed. 

Three years after the opening of the hall came the 



Carpenters’ Hall, Philadelphia 

Erected, 1768. 


235 






































236 WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


first event that linked the building with the history 
of America. A general meeting of the people of Phila¬ 
delphia was held here to protest against the failure of 
Governor Penn to convene the Assembly of the colony. 
A committee of three was appointed to wait on the 
Speaker and ask him for “a positive answer as to 
whether he would call the Assembly together or not.” 

The Assembly was then called to meet on the “ 18th 
day of the 6th month.” Three days before the date 
fixed, another meeting was held in Carpenters’ Hall 
to consider what measures for the welfare of the colony 
should be proposed to the Assembly. At this meet¬ 
ing the necessity of holding “a general Congress of 
delegates from all the Colonies” was voiced. Later 
the Assembly approved of the idea of such a conference, 
and a call was issued. 

On September 5, 1774, the delegates from eleven 
provinces met in the City Tavern. Learning that the 
Carpenters’ Company had offered the hall for the use 
of the Continental Congress, the delegates voted to 
inspect the accommodations. John Adams, one of 
their number, said, after the visit: “They took a view 
of the room and of the chamber, where there is an ex¬ 
cellent library. There is also a long entry, where 
gentlemen may walk, and also a convenient chamber 
opposite to the library. The general cry was that this 
was a good room.” 

On October 26 the Congress was dissolved. The 
second Congress was called to meet on May 10, 1775, 
at the State House, later known as Independence Hall. 


INDEPENDENCE HALL, PHILADELPHIA 237 


When the British took possession of the city in 1777, 
a portion of the army was quartered in Carpenters’ 
Hall. Officers and men alike borrowed books from 
the Library Company of Philadelphia, which had 
quarters here, invariably making deposits and paying 
for the use of volumes taken, in strict accordance with 
the rules. 

In 1778 the United States Commissary of Military 
Stores began to occupy the lower story and cellar of 
the building. From 1791 to 1821 various public or¬ 
ganizations sought quarters here, including the Bank of 
the United States, the Bank of Pennsylvania, the United 
States Land Office, and the United States Custom 
House. The Carpenters’ Company therefore, in 1791, 
erected a second building on this lot, which they oc¬ 
cupied until 1857. 

But in that year they returned to the original build¬ 
ing, and since then they have held their meetings within 
the walls consecrated by the heroes of Revolutionary 
times. The rooms were restored to their former con¬ 
dition, and relics and mementoes of early days were 
put in place. The hall has ever since been open to 
visitors “who may wish to visit the spot where Henry, 
Hancock, and Adams inspired the delegates of the col¬ 
onies with nerve and the sinews for the toils of war.” 

65 . Independence Hall, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 

More than fifty-five years after William Penn laid 
out Philadelphia, the first steps were taken to erect a 
public building for the use of the people. Ground was 


238 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


bought on Chestnut Street, between Fifth and Sixth 
Streets, and the State House was begun in 1730. The 
total cost of the building was $16,250. Two wings were 
added in 1739 and 1740. These cost some $12,000 more. 

Two years after the completion of the main building, 
the Pennsylvania Assembly passed an act in which this 
statement was made: 

“It is the true intent and meaning of these Presents, 
that no part of the said ground lying to the southward 
of the State House, as it is now built, be converted into 
or made use of for erecting any sort of Building there¬ 
upon, but that the said ground shall be enclosed and 
remain a public open Green and Walks forever.” 

The builders were slow. It was 1736 before the As¬ 
sembly was able to hold its first session in the chamber 
provided for it, and not until 1745 was the room com¬ 
pleted. Three years more passed before the apartment 
intended for the Governor’s Council was ready for its 
occupants. 

In 1741 the tower was built. Provision was made 
in 1759 for the extension of the tower to hold a bell, 
and on October 16, 1751, the superintendent of the 
State House sent a letter to the colonial agent in Lon¬ 
don. In this letter he said : 

“We take the liberty to apply ourselves to thee to 
get us a good bell, of about two thousand pounds weight, 
the cost of which we presume may amount to about one 
hundred pounds sterling, or, perhaps, with the charges, 
something more. ... Let the bell be cast by the 
best workmen, and examined carefully before it is 



239 


Independence Hall, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 





















240 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


shipped, with the following words well-shaped in large 
letters round it, viz.: 

“By order of the Assembly of the Province of Pennsylvania, 
for the State House in the city of Philadelphia, 1752. 

“And underneath, 

“ Proclaim Liberty throughout all the land to all the inhabitants 
thereof. —Levit. XXV. 10.” 

When the new bell was hung, it was cracked by a 
stroke of the clapper. Isaac Norris wrote : 

“We concluded to send it back by Captain Budden, 
but he could not take it on board, upon which two 
ingenious workmen undertook to cast it here, and I am 
just now informed they have this day opened the mould 
and have got a good bell, which, I confess, pleases me 
very much, that we should first venture upon and suc¬ 
ceed in the greatest bell cast, for aught I know, in Eng¬ 
lish America. The mould was finished in a very mas¬ 
terly manner, and the letters, I am told, are better 
than [on] the old one. When we broke up the metal, 
our judges here generally agreed it was too high and 
brittle, and cast several little bells out of it to try the 
sound and strength, and fixed upon a mixture of an 
ounce and a half of copper to one pound of the old bell, 
and in this proportion we now have it.” 

But when the bell was in place it was found to contain 
too much copper, and Pass and Stow, the founders, begged 
to be allowed to recast it. In June, 1753, this third 
bell was hung, and in the following September the 
founders were paid £60 13 s. 5 d. 


INDEPENDENCE HALL, PHILADELPHIA 241 

In 1752 arrangements were made for a clock. The 
works were placed in the middle of the main building, 
immediately under the roof. These were connected 
by rods, inclosed in pipes, with the hands on the dial 
plates at either gable. Early views of the State House 
show these dials. The cost of the clock, which in¬ 
cluded care for six years, was £494 55. 5 \d. 

During the twenty years that followed the installa¬ 
tion of the clock and the bell, the State House became a 
civic center of note; but not until the stirring events 
that led up to the Revolution did it become of special 
interest to other colonies than Pennsylvania. On 
April 25, 1775, the day after news came to Philadel¬ 
phia of the battles of Lexington and Concord, the 
great bell sounded a call to arms. In response to the 
call eight thousand people gathered in the Yard to 
consider measures of defense. On April 26 the news¬ 
papers reported that “the company unanimously 
agreed to associate for the purpose of defending with 
arms their lives, liberty, and property, against all at¬ 
tempts to deprive them of them.” This determination 
of the people was soon approved by the Assembly, and 
Pennsylvania prepared to raise its quota towards the 
Army of the Revolution. 

On May 10, 1775, the Second Continental Congress 
met in the Assembly Chamber, and took action that 
led to the adoption of the Declaration of Independence 
the next year. On Friday, June 7, 1776, in the Eastern 
Room on the first floor of the State House, Richard 
Henry Lee of Virginia introduced the following : 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


242 

“Resolved, That these United Colonies are, and of 
right ought to be, free and independent States, that 
they are absolved from all allegiance to the British 
Crown and that all political connection between them 
and the State of Great Britain is, and ought to be, to¬ 
tally dissolved.” 

At the same time the Pennsylvania Assembly was 
considering, in the chamber upstairs, what instruction 
to give to its delegates. When the Assembly ad¬ 
journed, the Continental Congress removed to the up¬ 
per room. There, on July 2, Lee’s motion was carried. 
Later the Declaration itself was adopted, and on 
July 4, it was 

“Resolved, that Copies of the Declaration be sent 
to the several assemblies, conventions, and committees 
or councils of safety, and to the several commanding 
officers of the continental troops; that it be proclaimed 
in each of the United States and at the head of the 
army.” 

It was ordered that the Declaration be proclaimed 
from the State House on Monday, July 8, 1776. On 
that day the State House bell sounded its glad call; for 
the first time did it indeed “proclaim liberty through¬ 
out the land unto all the inhabitants thereof.” And 
in the hearing of those who gathered in response to 
its call, the Declaration was read. 

From that day the State House has been known as 
Independence Hall, while the State House Yard has 
become Independence Square. The bell is known 
throughout the country as the Liberty Bell. 


PAUL REVERE’S HOME, BOSTON 


243 


The sittings of Congress in Independence Hall were 
interrupted by the approach of the British. For five 
months the building was used as a British prison and 
hospital. But on July 2, 1778, Congress returned; the 
building once more belonged to the nation. 

In 1787, the Constitutional Convention met in In¬ 
dependence Hall. On September 17, 1787, the votes 
of eleven states were recorded in favor of the Constitu¬ 
tion, and Benjamin Franklin, looking toward a sun 
which was blazoned on the President’s chair, said of it 
to those near him, “In the vicissitudes of hope and fear 
I was not able to tell whether it was rising or setting; 
now I know that it is the rising sun.” 

In 1790, the Congress of the United States met in 
the western portion of the buildings on the Square, 
erected in 1785 for the Pennsylvania Assembly. 

Independence Hall is a shrine; for within it was en¬ 
couraged, proclaimed, and upheld the liberty of the 
American people. 

66. Paul Revere’s Home, Boston, Massachusetts 

Paul Revere might have been called Rivoire, for 
that was the form of the family name in France until 
his father, Apollos, found his way across the sea. Apol- 
los Revere, who changed his name to Paul Revere, es¬ 
tablished himself in Boston as a gold- and silver-smith. 
Paul, the son, learned the same trade. He stopped busi¬ 
ness long enough to go as a soldier in the expedition 
against Crown Point, where he was lieutenant of a 
company of artillery. But when he returned, he went 


244 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 



back to his bench. At that time he was twenty-two 
years old. 

In an issue of the Boston Gazette and Country Journal , 
in 1768, he printed an advertisement which showed 
great enterprise: 

Whereas, many persons are so unfortunate as to lose their 
Fore-Teeth by Accident, and otherways, to their great Detri¬ 
ment, not only in Looks, but speaking both in Public and Pri- 


The Home of Paul Revere, Boston, Massachusetts 

vate: — This is to inform all such, that they may have them 
replaced with artificial Ones, that look as well as the Natural & 
answer the End of Speaking to all intents, by Paul Revere,, 
Goldsmith, near the head of Dr. Clarke’s Wharf, Boston. 

He was also a skilled engraver; most of the silver¬ 
ware made in Boston at this period showed how skill¬ 
ful. Later, when patriotic interest became so great 























PAUL REVERE’S HOME, BOSTON 


245 


that lithographs and broadsides were called for, he en¬ 
graved many of these on copper. One of his best 
known bits of work was an engraving of Boston, as it 
was in 1768, to illustrate the quartering on the people 
of British troops just before the Boston Massacre. 

He began his patriotic work as a member of the Sons 
of Liberty, which had been formed in other colonies 
as well as in Massachusetts. This organization held 
frequent meetings, and laid plans for resisting the de¬ 
mands of Great Britain. 

When it became necessary to have a trusted messen¬ 
ger to carry news from place to place, Paul Revere was 
one of those chosen for the purpose. His first impor¬ 
tant ride was at the time of the destruction of the tea 
in Boston harbor. He helped bring together the people 
who protested against the landing of the tea from the 
ship Dartmouth , and later he is said to have been 
one of the men who, on December 16, 1773, in Indian 
disguise, threw £18,000 worth of tea into the harbor. 

When the Boston Port Bill was announced, in 1774, 
he was sent by a committee of Boston citizens to ask 
the other colonies to stop all importation from, and ex¬ 
portation to, Great Britain and every part of the West 
Indies until the act be repealed. When he returned 
from New York and Philadelphia, he reported “noth¬ 
ing can exceed the indignation with which our brethren 
of Rhode Island, Connecticut, New York, and Phila¬ 
delphia have received this proof of ministerial madness. 
They universally declare their resolution to stand by 
us to the last extremity.” 


246 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


There were other famous rides, but the greatest of 
all was on April 18 and 19, 1775, when Revere carried 
tidings of the movements of the British. His own ac¬ 
count of the preparation and the beginning of the ride 
was as simple and unaffected as the man himself: 

“ About ten o’clock Dr. [Joseph] Warren sent in 
great haste for me, and begged that I would immedi¬ 
ately set off for Lexington, where Messrs. Hancock 
and Adams were, and acquaint them of the move¬ 
ment, and that it was thought they were the objects. 

. . . The Sunday before I had been to Lexington, 
to Messrs. Hancock and Adams. ... I returned at 
night through Charlestown; there I agreed with . . . 
some other gentlemen, that if the British went by water, 
we would show two lanterns in the North Church stee¬ 
ple, and if by land, one as a signal; for we were appre¬ 
hensive it would be difficult to cross the Charles River, 
or get over Boston Neck. I . . . called upon a friend, 
and desired him to make the signals. I then went 
home, took my boots and surtout, went to the north 
part of the town, where I kept a boat; two friends 
rowed me across Charles River. . . . They landed 
me on the Charlestown side. When I got into town 
. . . several . . . said they had seen our signals. I 
told them what was acting, and went to get me a 
horse.” 

He rode with great care, on the watch for enemies. 
Once he was chased by two British officers. At Med¬ 
ford he awoke the captain of the minutemen. After 
that he alarmed almost every house until he got to 


PAUL REVERE’S HOME, BOSTON 


247 


Lexington. There he aroused Mr. Adams and Colonel 
Hancock, who were stopping at the house of Rev. 
Jonas Clark. After half an hour he was joined by 
a Mr. Dawes, who had been sent from Boston by a 
longer route. They set off together for Concord, and 
were overtaken by Dr. Samuel Prescott, who had been 
making a call in Lexington. Revere’s object was now 
to warn the people of Concord to protect the military 
stores there. 

Halfway between the two towns, the three men were 
pursued by several mounted British officers. Revere’s 
two companions escaped, and Dr. Prescott made his 
way across country to Concord, in time to alarm the 
minutemen. Revere himself was captured and led 
back to Lexington, where he was released and his 
horse taken from him. He then proceeded on foot 
to the Clark house, where he joined Adams and 
Hancock. 

Thus the way was prepared for Concord and Lexing¬ 
ton. That the patriots were not taken by surprise, 
and the stores at Concord seized as the British had 
hoped, was due to the courage of Paul Revere. 

As Longfellow’s familiar lines tell us : 

A hurry of hoofs in a village street, 

A shape in the moonlight, a bulk in the dark, 

And beneath, from the pebbles, in passing, a spark, 

Struck out by a steed flying fearless and fleet: 

That was all! And yet, through the gloom and the light, 
The fate of a-nation was riding that night; 

And the spark struck out by that steed, in his flight, 

Kindled the land into flame with its heat. 


248 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


67. The Bunker Hill Monument, Charlestown, 
Massachusetts 

When Great Britain, angered by the leadership of 
Boston in the disputes with the mother country, 
closed her port, the sympathy of all the colonies was 
aroused, and they promised to rally to her defense, 
knowing that this would be the defense of the rights of 

all of them. Troops from 



the four New England col¬ 
onies hurried to Boston, 
and were there when, on 
the evening of June 17, 
1775, orders came to 
Colonel Prescott to take 
one thousand men and oc¬ 
cupy and defend Bunker 
Hill, in Charlestown. The 
work was to be done in 
the face of the enemy, on 
ship and on shore. 

For some reason Breed’s 

Bunker Hill Monument, Charles- Hill, not Bunker Hill, was 
town, Massachusetts c .-r j .1 . • i , , 

fortified that night, but 
the name of Bunker Hill has always been given to 
the battle that followed next day, when the British 
attacked the men behind fortifications that had been 
built in four hours. These fortifications overlooked 
Boston, and endangered the British control of the city. 
The work began at midnight; at four o’clock the 




BUNKER HILL MONUMENT, CHARLESTOWN 249 

enemy’s battalion opened fire, before the barriers 
planned had been finished. But the gallant Colonials 
could not have acquitted themselves with more spirit 
if their defenses had been complete. 

The fire from the batteries was supplemented by the 
rushes of the enemy, who came from Boston by ferry. 
Twice they pressed up the slope, only to be driven back 
by the Colonials ; to the joy of the throngs who looked 
on from other hills, from church steeples, and from the 
roofs of houses that commanded a view of the hill. The 
colonial troops are said to have been given the order: 
“Don’t fire until you see the whites of their eyes.” 

A third attack would have been repulsed in the same 
way, but the ammunition was exhausted. When the 
British were greeted with stones instead of bullets, 
they knew the day was won. They took the hill, in¬ 
trenched themselves, and permitted the Colonials to 
retire to Charlestown — which had been burned dur¬ 
ing the battle. General Joseph Warren, one of the 
most ardent patriots of Massachusetts, fell mortally 
wounded in this battle. 

Thus fifteen hundred Americans had held at bay three 
thousand men in a battle that, according to Daniel 
Webster, “was attended with the most important ef¬ 
fects beyond its immediate result as a military engage¬ 
ment. It created at once a state of open, public war. 
There could be no longer a question of proceeding 
against individuals, as guilty of treason or rebellion. 
That fearful crisis was past. The appeal now lay to 
the sword, and the only question was, whether the 


250 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


spirit and the resources of the people would hold out 
till their object should be accomplished.” 

For a longtime there was talk of building a monument 
to commemorate the important battle. But nothing 
was done until, in 1794, a lodge of Free Masons erected, 
on the site of the battle, a pillar on which they inscribed 
the words: 

None but those who set a just value upon the 
blessings of Liberty are worthy to enjoy her. 

A model of the Masonic pillar stands within the monu¬ 
ment of today. 

In 1822 a Boston paper announced that the ground 
on which the monument stood, as well as the remains 
of the colonial breastworks, were to be sold at auction 
on May 1. Then followed an appeal to some wealthy 
patriot to preserve the spot as a heritage for the nation. 

Fortunately the land was bought by a resident of 
Boston, and was held by him until the Bunker Hill 
Monument Association was formed for the purpose of 
building a suitable memorial. Appeals for funds were 
made to the American people, and soon there was in¬ 
terest enough to justify a beginning. 

The corner stone was laid on June 17, 1825. General 
Lafayette was present, together with many veterans 
of the Revolution. The oration was delivered by Dan¬ 
iel Webster, and closed with an appeal that soon became 
familiar all over the country : 

“Let our object be, our country, our whole country, 
and nothing but our country. And, by the blessing 


BUNKER HILL MONUMENT, CHARLESTOWN 251 

of God, may that country itself become a vast and 
splendid monument, not of oppression and terror, but 
of Wisdom, of Peace, and of Liberty, upon which the 
world may gaze, with admiration for us.” 

Work on the monument was interrupted by lack of 
money, but in 1834 it was resumed. In 1840 a doubt 
was expressed whether that generation would see the 
completion of the monument. But the gifts of several 
men of wealth, of the Charitable Mechanics’ Associa¬ 
tion, and the proceeds of a fair arranged by the women 
of Boston, proved sufficient, in 1841, for once more re¬ 
suming the work. In July, 1842, the last stone was 
laid. 

On June 17, 1843, the dedication, Daniel Webster 
was again asked to make an address. The words he 
spoke will live in America’s literature, especially the 
closing message: 

“And when we, and our children, shall all have been 
conveyed to the house appointed for all living, may 
love of country — and pride of country — glow with 
equal fervor among those to whom our names and 
our blood shall have descended! And then, when 
honored and decrepit age shall lean against the base of 
this monument, and troops of ingenuous youth shall 
be gathered round it, and when the one shall speak to 
the other of the objects, the purposes of its construc¬ 
tion, and the great and glorious events with which it 
is connected — then shall rise, from every youthful 
breast, the ejaculation, ‘ Thank God, I also am an 
American !’” 


252 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


When the monument was completed, the inscrip¬ 
tion planned for it had not been written. For years 
nothing was done about it. Then the Monument 
Association invited suggestions and considered many. 
But at the meeting of the directors, on June 18, 1849, 
Edward Everett offered a resolution declaring “that 
the great object for which the obelisk was erected on 
Bunker Hill is monumental, and not historical, and 
that it is not expected that any record of names, dates, 
or events connected with the battle should be inscribed 
upon it.” 

The resolution was adopted. So the monument com¬ 
memorates “an Era, to which the Battle of Bunker 
Hill led the way, rather than a mere event.” 

The Bunker Hill Monument Association retains its 
organization; but the obelisk that rises two hundred 
and twenty feet from the site of the redoubt of 1775, 
has recently been turned over by the association to the 
Commonwealth of Massachusetts. 

68 . St. John’s Church, Richmond, Virginia 

The capital city of the Old Dominion contains many 
places of historic importance, but none of them is of 
greater interest than St. John’s Church, where Patrick 
Henry spoke the immortal words, “Give me liberty 
or give me death.” These words rang throughout the 
country, and had no small part in arousing the spirit 
which enabled the colonies to stand fast during eight 
years of bitter warfare. 

The first plan to build St. John’s Church was made 


ST. JOHN’S CHURCH, RICHMOND, VIRGINIA 253 


in 1737. The contractor agreed to have it ready for 
use in 1741. The vestry arranged to give the builder 
“the sum of £317 10s. current money to be paid by the 
amount of the sale of twenty thousand pounds of to- 



St. John’s Church, Richmond, Virginia 
Where Patrick Henry said, “ Give me liberty, or give me death.” 


bacco annually to be levied on the parish and sold here 
for money till the whole payment be complete.” 

Although there is no record to prove it, the building 
was probably finished at the appointed time. Since that 
date various additions have been made, yet it is possible 








254 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


to trace the lines of the original structure. The old pews 
are still in use, though they have been lowered. The 
hinges of the pew doors are hand-wrought. The wain¬ 
scoting and the window sashes are those first put in. 
The original weather-boarding is still in place. It is 
fastened by nails whose heads are half an inch broad. 

For the new church there were imported from Eng¬ 
land “one Parson’s Surplice, a Pulpit Cushion and 
Cloth, two Cloths for Reading Desks, a Communion 
Table Cloth, and a dozen of Cushions — to be of good 
Purple Cloth, and the Surplice good Holland, and also 
Large Bible and four large Prayer Books.” 

An entry in the vestry book on December 17, 1773, 
shows that the rector, Mr. Selden, received as salary 
17,150 pounds of tobacco, worth £125. The clerk of 
the parish received 1789 pounds of tobacco, or £13 10 s .; 
the sexton had 536 pounds, or £3 105. 7 d . 

Selden was chaplain of the Virginia Convention 
which met in the church March 20, 1775. At the clos¬ 
ing session of this convention Patrick Henry “flashed 
the electric spark which exploded the country in revo¬ 
lution,” as Burton says in his history of Henrico Parish. 
This was the speech that closed with these words: 

“ Gentlemen may cry, 4 Peace ! Peace ! ’ but there is no 
peace. The war is actually begun! The next gale that 
sweeps from the north will bring to our ears the clash 
of resounding arms! Our brethren are already in the 
field ! Why stand we here idle ? What is it that gentle¬ 
men wish? What would they have? Is life so dear, 
or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of 


WHERE WASHINGTON LIVED IN CAMBRIDGE 255 


chains and slavery? Forbid it, Almighty God! I 
know not what course others may take, but as for me, 
give me liberty, or give me death ! ” 

Dr. Burton says that the orator “ stood, according to 
tradition, near the present corner of the east transept 
and the nave, or more exactly, in pew 47, in the east 
aisle of the nave. . . . He faced the eastern wall of 
the transept, where were the two windows. In the 
more northern of these stood Colonel Edward Carring¬ 
ton. He broke the silence that followed the orator’s 
burning words with the exclamation, ‘ Right here I 
wish to be buried !’ ” 

When the British took possession of Richmond, in 
1781, Arnold’s men were quartered in St. John’s Church. 
And some of them set foot on the very spot whete Patrick 
Henry stood when he stirred the people to resolve that 
they would drive all British soldiers from the colonies. 

69. Where Washington Lived in Cambridge, 
Massachusetts 

The visitor to Cambridge, Massachusetts, does not 
find it easy to believe that Craigie House, now in the 
heart of the city, was once surrounded by a park of 
one hundred and fifty acres. But John Vassall, who 
built it in 1769, was as eager to have plenty of open 
space about him as he was to have a fine house. 

He enjoyed his home only a few years. At the be¬ 
ginning of the Revolution, he went to Boston, and later 
he removed to England, for his sympathies were with 


256 WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 



the Crown. Accordingly, in 1778, the property was 
declared forfeited to the state. 

But the estate really became a public possession 
three years before this, when a regiment, under the 
command of Colonel Glover, pitched its tents in the 


Craigie House, Cambridge, Massachusetts 

park. In July, 1775, Washington made the house 
his headquarters, remaining until April 4, 1776. 

During these months the house was a busy place. 
Officers gathered here both for business and for pleasure. 
Military conferences and court-martials were held in 
the library. Dinners and entertainments were fre¬ 
quent; these provided a needed diversion during the 
weeks of anxious waiting near the British line. Mrs. 
Washington was a guest here, thus giving to her hus¬ 
band the taste of home life which he was unwilling to 










WHERE WASHINGTON LIVED IN CAMBRIDGE 257 


take during the Revolution by making a visit to his 
estate at Mount Vernon. 

On one of the early days of the Commander in Chief’s 
occupancy of the house, he wrote this entry in his care¬ 
fully kept account book: 

“July 15, 1775, Paid for cleaning the House which 
was provided for my Quar¬ 
ters, and which had been oc¬ 
cupied by the Marblehead 
regiment, £2 10s. gd .” 

The day before this entry 
was made General Green 
wrote to Samuel Ward : 

“His Excellency, General 
Washington, has arrived 
amongst us, universally ad¬ 
mired. Joy was visible in 
every countenance, and it 
seemed as if the spirit of con¬ 
quest breathed through the 
whole army. I hope I shall be taught to copy his ex¬ 
ample, and to prefer the love of liberty, in this time of 
public danger, to all the soft pleasures of domestic life, 
and that we shall support ourselves with manly forti¬ 
tude amidst all the dangers and hardships that attend 
a state of war. And I doubt not, under the General’s 
wise direction, we shall establish such excellent order 
and strictness of discipline as to invite victory to at¬ 
tend him wherever he goes.” 

A council of war was held in the house on August 3, 



The Washington Elm, Cambridge, 
Massachusetts 



258 WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


1775. After this council General Sullivan wrote to the 
New Hampshire Committee of Safety : 

“To our great surprise, discovered that we had not 
powder enough to furnish half a pound a man, exclu¬ 
sive of what the people have in their homes and car¬ 
tridge boxes. The General was so struck that he did 
not utter a word for half an hour.” 

Further hints of the serious straits caused by the 
lack of ammunition were contained in a letter of Elias 
Boudinot. He said that at the time there were four¬ 
teen miles of line to guard, so that Washington did not 
dare fire an evening or a morning gun. “In this situa¬ 
tion one of the Committee of Safety for Massachusetts 
. . . deserted and went over to General Gage, and dis¬ 
covered our poverty to him. The fact was so incredible 
that General Gage treated it as a stratagem of war, and 
the informant as a spy, or coming with the express pur¬ 
pose of deceiving him and drawing his army into a 
snare, by which means we were saved from having our 
quarters beaten up. ...” 

The strange inactivity of the British in the face of 
that unpreparedness was remarked in a letter written 
to Congress on January 4, from headquarters: 

“It is not in the pages of history, perhaps, to furnish 
a case like ours. To maintain a post within musket 
shot of the enemy, for six months together, without 
[powder], and at the same time to disband one army, 
and recruit another, within that distance of twenty- 
odd British regiments, is more, probably, than was 
ever attempted.” 


OLD SOUTH MEETING-HOUSE, BOSTON 259 


In 1837, the poet Longfellow found quarters in Crai- 
gie House, which was at that time owned and occupied 
by Mrs. Andrew Craigie, widow of a commissary officer 
in the American Army. In 1843 Longfellow became 
the owner of the estate, and it continued to be his 
home until his death in 1882. 

The room oh the ground floor at the right of the en¬ 
trance, formerly Washington’s office, became Longfel¬ 
low’s study; and there he wrote many of the poems 
that have gone straight to the hearts of millions. The 
walls that once resounded to the tread of Washington 
and his generals now echoed to the laughter of children, 
of whom Longfellow wrote : 

Ye are better than all the ballads 
That ever were sung or said: 

For ye are living poems, 

And all the rest are dead. 

Today, on Saturday afternoons, the public are per¬ 
mitted to visit Craigie House. 

70 . The Story of the Old South Meeting-House, 
Boston, Massachusetts 

The first inhabitants of Boston had but one church 
until 1649, when, for the convenience of many who lived 
in the North End, the Second Church was organized. 
Later this was called “ North Church,” because of its 
location. As it grew older, the name “Old North” 
was applied to it, to distinguish it from the “New 
North.” Its first building was burned in the fire of 
1676, while its second building was pulled down by the 


260 where our history was made 

British and used for firewood during the siege of 
Boston. 

In 1669 some dissenting members of the First Church 
decided they must have a church of their own. The 
first building for the society was called the South 
Meeting-House. It was built in 1669, on the site of 
the garden or “green” which was originally granted to 
Governor Winthrop. In 1717 the people began to 



Interior of Old South Meeting-House, Boston, Massachusetts 


call this church the “Old South,” to distinguish it 
from another church which was still farther south. 

In the first building — which was of cedar wood — 
Judge Sewall stood up before the congregation one day 
in 1697 and read to them his prayer asking for the 
forgiveness of God and his fellow-citizens, for his share 
in the witchcraft trials. 

Eleven years later Benjamin Franklin was baptized 
there, and he was twenty-four years old when the 
















OLD SOUTH MEETING-HOUSE, BOSTON 261 

second building — that which still stands was first 
used. 

For nearly two hundred years this building has been 
the scene of historic events that have made it famous. 
Frequently, from 1768 to 1773, Faneuil Hall proved too 
small to hold the people who crowded to town meetings 
called to take action in matters that troubled the colo¬ 
nies, and these meetings were adjourned to the Old South. 

On Sunday, November 28, 1773, the ship Dart¬ 
mouth , laden with tea, entered Boston Harbor. On 
Monday morning Boston people were told by bills 
pasted on walls and elsewhere, that the “worst of 
plagues, the detested tea,” was in the harbor. The 
same bills called a meeting for nine o’clock in Faneuil 
Hall, where the people would be requested to make 
“a united and successful resistance to the last, worst, 
and most destructive measure of administration.” At 
Faneuil Hall a motion was made and carried to prevent 
the landing of the tea, if possible, and in any case to 
return it to the place it came from. The meeting was 
then adjourned to the Old South Meeting-House, where 
the motion was made and carried that the tea should 
not only be sent back, but that no duty should be paid. 
The meeting was then adjourned to three o’clock, to 
give the people who were to receive the tea time to 
consider and deliberate. 

On December 16 there was another meeting by ad¬ 
journment in the Old South. Again the building was 
crowded. All day long various plans were talked over. 
After the lighting of the candles that evening, it was 


262 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


announced that the governor would not give a pass to 
the tea ship to leave the harbor, and Samuel Adams 
said, sorrowfully, “This meeting can do nothing more 
to save the country.” 

Gilman’s Story of Boston tells what followed: 

“ In an instant there was a shout on the porch ; there 
was a warwhoop in response, and forty or fifty of the 
men disguised as Indians rushed out of the doors. . . . 
The meeting was declared dissolved, and the throng 
followed their leaders. . . . The Mohawks entered 
the vessel; there was tugging at the ropes; there was 
breaking of light boxes; there was pouring of precious 
tea into the waters of the harbor. For two or three 
hours the work went on, and three hundred and forty- 
two chests were emptied. Then, under the light of the 
moon, the Indians marched to the sound of fife and 
drum to their homes, and the vast throng melted away.” 

In 1775 General Burgoyne decided that the meeting¬ 
house was the most suitable place for a riding-school 
for his troops, and the pews and the pulpit were taken 
away for the purpose. The following year the British 
were forced to evacuate, and Washington entered the 
city. When he stood in the gallery of the Old South 
Meeting-House and looked down on the havoc wrought 
in that place of worship, his heart must have been full 
of wrath and sorrow. 

Since March, 1783, when the building was repaired, 
it»has been but little changed. Services were discon¬ 
tinued in 1872, at the time of the great fire, but they 
were resumed in 1907. 


FORT MOULTRIE, CHARLESTON 263 

Five years later there was talk of destroying the 
noble old building, that the valuable lot might be used 
for business purposes, but the efforts of patriotic citi¬ 
zens were successful in preserving the historic land¬ 
mark. Since that time it has been kept open as a 
museum and a hall for public meetings and lectures. 
The property is owned by the Old South Association 
of Boston. 

71. Fort Moultrie, Charleston, South Carolina 

Early in 1776, the people of Charleston, South Caro¬ 
lina, made up their minds that they must fortify Sulli¬ 
van Island in the harbor, if they were to be ready for 
the ships of the enemy which they felt sure would visit 
them soon. 

So it was decided to build a fortification of palmetto 
logs, and Colonel Moultrie was placed in charge of the 
work. The fort was at first called Fort Sullivan, al¬ 
though it was later known by the name of its first com¬ 
mander, Colonel Moultrie. He planned a structure 
with walls ten feet high; these walls were double, a 
pile of logs within an outer pile of logs, with sixteen 
feet of sand between. Sixty-four guns were mounted 
behind the ramparts. 

The stronghold was still unfinished when, in June, 
it was approached by a fleet of ten ships of all sizes, the 
two largest carrying fifty guns, while the smallest had 
twenty-two. In all there were four times as many 
guns as there were in the fort. A force of soldiers 


264 WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 

was put ashore, and prepared to help the ships in their 
attack on the patriotic city. 

General Charles Lee, who was in charge of the de¬ 
fense of the city, told Colonel Moultrie he was not 
satisfied with the fort, because it could not be defended. 
Then he found fault with the commander because he 



Fort Moultrie, Charleston, South Carolina 


had not made any plans for the retreat of his men when 
longer resistance should seem useless. The Colonel 
replied that his men would never retreat. 

So General Lee left Moultrie to his slaughter-pen. 
But first he took away half of the small supply of pow¬ 
der which had been counted on for the approaching 
battle. Why leave more when defeat was certain? 

When the guns of the ships — which had formed in 
double line — began to pour their fire on the palmetto 
fort, Moultrie knew that among his twelve hundred 





FORT MOULTRIE, CHARLESTON 


265 


men were expert gunners, who could be counted on. 
To these he cried, “ Concentrate on the fifty-gun ships ! ” 
As a result, both vessels were raked by a galling fire, 
and their captains were badly wounded. 

But the advantage was gained at the cost of much of 
the powder which General Lee had left the besieged 
men. More would soon be needed. So Colonel Moul¬ 
trie sent an appeal to the city for ammunition. Five 
hundred pounds of powder were sent him from one 
source, but General Lee, who had five thousand pounds 
under his control, merely sent back word that if the 
ammunition should all be spent without driving off the 
enemy, the commander should make his guns useless 
and retreat in the best order possible! Why should 
he send help, when he had prophesied that defeat was 
certain? He was showing, that day, the spirit that 
later led General Washington to call him a poltroon. 

Fortunately the defenses of the fort were better than 
even the commander had imagined. The double row 
of palmetto logs, packed with sand, furnished effective 
resistance to the balls of the enemy. Little harm was 
done behind the protecting walls, while the ships were 
badly damaged. 

At length a chance shot from one of the vessels shook 
the staff which supported the banner that had been 
waving above the little company in the fort. No one 
dared step out from the shelter of the palmetto walls 
to rescue it, and the contest went on without the flut¬ 
tering rattlesnake flag that had inspired the hearts of 
the defenders. 


266 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


Suddenly an Irish lad, Sergeant William Jasper, said, 
pleadingly: 

“Colonel Moultrie, don’t let us fight without a 
flag!” 

Then he leaped from the parapet, hurried to the flag, 
fastened it to a temporary staff, climbed upon the 
rampart, and placed it where it could be seen by both 
friend and foe. 

Soon the battle was at an end. The ships of the sur¬ 
prised enemy were put out of commission. One of 
them went ashore on the island on which Fort Sumter 
was built in later years. 

When the young hero was offered a captaincy for his 
bravery, he declined to accept, saying that he was only 
an ignorant boy. 

He continued to serve with credit. Three years 
later he saw the chance to repeat his brave act. While 
fighting in defense of Savannah, Georgia, the flag was 
shot away. Again Sergeant Jasper leaped after the 
banner, but fell mortally wounded, with the colors in 
his arms. 

On Charleston’s beautiful East Battery there is a 
monument to the memory of Jasper, the hero —- a gran¬ 
ite pedestal surmounted by the bronze figure of a con¬ 
tinental soldier, one hand pointing across the harbor to 
Fort Moultrie, while the other clasps the flag of the 
country for which he died. 

And out on Sullivan Island rise the walls of the Fort 
Moultrie that in 1841 succeeded the palmetto fort 
where Sergeant Jasper won undying fame. 



THE MORRIS-JUMEL HOUSE, NEW YORK CITY 267 

72. The Morris-Jumel House, New York City 

After the defeat at the Battle of Long Island on 
August 27, 1776, Washington’s army retreated to New 
York, the fishermen of Marblehead and Salem row¬ 
ing them across the East River under cover of night 
and fog. On September 15 it became necessary to 


The Morris-Jumel Mansion, New York City 

evacuate the city. So the troops withdrew to Harlem 
Heights, where a redoubt called Fort Washington had 
been prepared in case of just such an emergency. 

For several weeks Washington occupied as head¬ 
quarters the mansion which was built by Lieutenant 
Colonel Roger Morris in 1765. Washington and Mor¬ 
ris had once been friends, and had fought side by side 
in the French and Indian War; but as Morris was a 






268 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


loyalist, and Washington a patriot, the struggle for the 
independence of the American colonies separated them 
forever. 

At the time when Washington lived in it, the Morris 
house was far in the country, although today it is in the 
midst of the city. While it was Washington’s head¬ 
quarters, the early flag of the colonists waved over it. 
This flag the English called “the Rebellious Stripes.” 
In the space now given to the stars was the British 
Union Jack, while the thirteen red and white stripes 
that were to become so familiar completed the design. 

On October 16, 1776, it was decided to make a fur¬ 
ther retreat. Four divisions of Washington’s army 
moved northward, and a few days later the Commander 
in Chief followed, leaving a force of 2600 to hold the 
heights and defend Fort Washington. 

On November 16 General Howe attacked the heights. 
General Washington was at that time at Fort Lee, just 
opposite on the New Jersey shore. Full of anxiety 
over the fate of the besieged garrison, he crossed the 
river, accompanied by his generals, and went to the 
Morris house, to watch the movements of the enemy. 
Realizing then that the stronghold was doomed, he 
recrossed the river to Fort Lee. Fifteen'minutes after 
his departure, 14,000 British and Hessian troops took 
possession of the heights, the Morris mansion, and 
Fort Washington. 

The period of British occupation continued, at in¬ 
tervals, until near the close of the war. Since the owner 
was a loyalist, the British Government paid rent for 


THE MORRIS-JUMEL HOUSE, NEW YORK CITY 269 

the house. After the Revolution the property was 
confiscated, as appears from an entry in Washington’s 
diary, dated July 10, 1790: 

“ Having formed a party consisting of the Vice- 
President, his lady, son, and Miss Smith ; the Secretaries 
of State, Treasury, and War, and the ladies of the two 
latter; with all the gentlemen of my family, Mrs. Lear 
and the two children, we visited the old position of 
Fort Washington, and afterwards dined on a dinner 
provided by a Mr. Mariner at the house lately Colonel 
Roger Morris’, but confiscated and in the occupation 
of a common farmer.” 

For nearly thirty years after the Revolution the 
stately old house was occupied as a farmhouse or as a 
tavern. In 1810 it became the home of Stephen Jumel, 
a wealthy New York merchant. He was a Frenchman, 
and a friend of Napoleon. His wife, Madame Jumel, 
gave such wonderful entertainments in the house that 
the whole city talked about her, and stared after her 
as she drove about in her yellow coach, with postilions 
and fine horses. Her husband died in 1832, and a 
year later she married Aaron Burr. He was then 
seventy-seven years old, and she was sixty-four. 

Madame Jumel-Burr lived until July 16, 1865. After 
her death the mansion passed through a number of 
hands until, in 1903, title to it was obtained by the city 
of New York, on payment of $235,000. For three years 
the house was at the mercy of souvenir hunters, but in 
1906 it was turned over to the Daughters of the Ameri¬ 
can Revolution, for a Revolutionary museum. 


2JO 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


The spacious grounds that once belonged to the 
mansion have been sold for building-lots, but the 
house looks down proudly as ever from its lofty site 
almost opposite the intersection of Tenth Avenue and 
One Hundred and Sixty-first Street with St. Nicholas 
Avenue. The corner of its original dooryard is now 
Roger Morris Park. 

73. Three Shrines at Princeton, New Jersey 

Still standing in Princeton, New Jersey, is the digni¬ 
fied colonial home, Morven, which was pillaged by the 
British in 1776. Richard Stockton, the owner, had 
made the British very angry by his leadership in work 
for the patriots — “the rebels,” as the English called 
them — so when the opportunity came, they plundered 
the mansion. Fortunately Mrs. Stockton, before leav¬ 
ing hurriedly for Freehold, had buried the family silver, 
and this was not discovered, though Cornwallis and 
his officers occupied the house as headquarters. 

Probably, while they were here, they talked gleefully 
of what they called the collapse of the war. They felt 
so sure that the conflict was over that Cornwallis was 
already planning to return to England. 

Then came the surprise at Trenton, when nearly a 
thousand Hessians of a total force of twelve hundred 
were captured. 

Immediately Cornwallis, who had returned to New 
York, hastened back to Princeton, where he left three 
regiments and a company of cavalry. Then he went 
on to Trenton. On the way he was harassed by Wash- 



Where General Mercer Died 

On the Battlefield of Princeton, New Jersey. 



Washington’s Headquarters at Rocky Hill, New Jersey 


271 









272 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


ington’s outposts, and the main force of the General de¬ 
layed his entrance into the town until nightfall. He 
expected to renew the attack next morning, but during 
the night Washington and his men stole away toward 
Princeton. Within two miles of Princeton the force 
of General Mercer encountered the reserve troops of 
Cornwallis, which were on their way to their com¬ 
mander’s assistance. Washington, hearing the sound 
of the conflict that followed, hastened to the field in 
time to rally the forces of Mercer, who had been 
wounded. The day was saved, but General Mercer 
died in the farmhouse on the battlefield, to which he 
was carried. To this day visitors are shown the stain 
on the floor said to have been made by the blood of the 
dying man. 

After the battle came happier days for Princeton. 
Morven was restored, and Washington was frequently 
an honored guest beneath its roof. 

More than six years after the memorable battle of 
Princeton, another house in the neighborhood received 
him. When Congress convened in Nassau Hall, it 
rented for Washington the Rocky Hill House, five miles 
from the village, which was occupied by John Berrien, 
Associate Justice of the Supreme Court of New Jersey. 
This house, which was suitably furnished for the Gen¬ 
eral, was the last headquarters of the Revolution. 

While at the Berrien house, Washington sat to Wil¬ 
liam Dunlap for his portrait. In his Arts of Design , the 
artist, who at the time of which he wrote was eighteen 
years old, said: 


IN THE MOHAWK VALLEY, NEW YORK 273 

“My visits are now frequent to headquarters. The 
only military in the neighborhood were the GeneraEs 
suite and a corporal’s guard whose tents were on the 
green before the Berrien House, and the captain’s mar¬ 
quee nearly in front. The soldiers were New England 
yeomen’s sons, none older than twenty. ... I was 
quite at home in every respect at headquarters; to 
breakfast and dine day after day with the General and* 
Mrs. Washington and members of Congress.” 

It was Washington’s custom to ride to Princeton, 
mounted on a small roan horse. The saddle was “old 
and crooked, with a short deep blue saddle cloth 
flowered, with buff cloth at the edge.” 

The real closing scene in the Revolution was Washing¬ 
ton’s farewell address to the army, which he wrote in 
the southwest room of the second story of the Berrien 
house. On Sunday, November 2, from the second- 
story balcony, he read this to the soldiers. Two days 
later orders of discharge were issued to most of them. 

The house has become the property of the Washing¬ 
ton Headquarters Association of Rocky Hill, and is 
open to tourists. 

74. In the Mohawk Valley, New York 

When the Iroquois Indians of what is now New York 
State were in their glory, their old men used to tell 
round their council fires of the time when their ances¬ 
tors, long confined under a mountain near the falls of 
the Oswego River, were released by the Holder of the 
Heavens, Ta-reng-a-wa-gon. By him they were directed 


274 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


to the country between the Hudson River and Lake 
Erie. 

The Mohawks lived to the eastward, then came the 
Oneidas, the Onondagas, the Cayugas, and the Senecas. 

All went well with them until enemies from the 
north attacked the Onondagas. They appealed to 



The Statue of the Hero of Oriskany, Herkimer, New York 


Ta-reng-a-wa-gon, and he urged them to call a council 
of the Five Nations, who should then band together 
as brothers. Accordingly a council, attended by hun¬ 
dreds of the Indians, was held on the shores of the 
beautiful Onondaga Lake, and the Five Nations 
organized Ko-no-shi-o-ni, the Long House. The Mo¬ 
hawks agreed to guard the eastern door, while to the 
Senecas was given charge of the western door. The 
capital, the seat of the Council Fire, was in the terri¬ 
tory of the Onondagas, and was a few miles south of 
the present site of the city of Syracuse. 




IN THE MOHAWK VALLEY, NEW YORK 275 

In this glorious Mohawk country the Indians took 
special delight. But sometimes the braves hearkened 
to the call of the Delaware and the Chesapeake, where 
they had hunting-grounds. Then a favored route of 
travel was from the Mohawk, near the site of Canajo- 
harie, to Otsego Lake, and so to the Susquehanna River. 
On the way they passed what is now Cherry Valley. 
There, in 1741, Samuel Dunlop, a minister from Ire¬ 
land, settled his little colony from New Hampshire on 
eight thousand acres received from the Indians. And 
there they remained in peace until that awful day in 
1778 when Brant and his Indians fell on the frontier 
settlement, killed some of the people, and drove away 
the rest. A tablet on the Presbyterian Church at 
Cherry Valley tells the story. 

The Mohawk country won an important place in the 
annals of the Revolution. In what is now the town of 
Danube, just east of the present city of Little Falls, 
lived General Nicholas Herkimer. At Rome, forty 
miles to the west, Fort Stanwix sheltered troops which 
were a source of strength to the whole valley. In Au¬ 
gust, 1777, a force of about seventeen hundred whites 
and Indians, under General St. Leger, laid siege to the 
seven hundred and fifty Americans in the fort. The 
men in the fortress raised above it for the first time 
the new flag, of the design recently adopted by the 
Continental Congress. It is said to have been made 
from a white shirt, an officer's blue cloak, and 
strips from a woman’s red petticoat. 

Word of the peril of the troops at Fort Stanwix was 


276 WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


carried to the old hero at Herkimer. He assembled a 
force of about eight hundred militia at Fort Dayton, 
near the site of the village of Herkimer, and hastened 
up the valley toward the stronghold. On August 6, 
when they were crossing a ravine two miles from Oris- 
kany Creek, Herkimer’s men were attacked by about 
five hundred whites and Indians under Joseph Brant. 
Then followed a brief encounter, of which a British his¬ 
torian has said, “ Oriskany, for the strength of the forces 
engaged, proved to be the bloodiest conflict of the en¬ 
tire war.” Of the eight hundred surprised men, more 
than six hundred were either killed or wounded. Their 
leader, wounded at the beginning, directed the defense 
from the ground. Later he was taken back to his 
fortress home on the south bank of the Mohawk, near 
Herkimer, where he ’died. 

The old homestead has been preserved by the state. 
The hero’s memory is further honored by a monument 
at Herkimer, by fourteen stones that mark his route 
to Oriskany, and by a battle monument on a height 
by the side of the, ravine which was the scene of the 
disaster. 

The monuments at Oriskany and Herkimer have 
companions not far away. At Clinton, not many miles 
from Utica, is a stone erected in commemoration of the 
treaty of Fort Stanwix, November 5, 1768, which 
opened to settlement a wide extent of the Indian coun¬ 
try. In the town of Steuben, in the center of a five- 
acre tract of woodland, stands the monument to Major 
General Frederick William Steuben, friend of the colo- 


MONUMENT AT BENNINGTON, VERMONT 277 


nists in the Revolution, to whom sixteen thousand 
acres of land were given by New York because of his 
services. At Rome is the memorial of Fort Stanwix. 


75 . The Battle Monument at Bennington, Vermont 

In 1777, after General Burgoyne’s capture of Fort 
Ticonderoga, Vermont was terrified because of his 
advance to the south in the effort to cut off New 
England from the other colonies. 

A call was sent to Massachusetts and New Hamp¬ 
shire to give aid in defending the frontiers and halting 
the dangerous invader. The response was prompt and 
energetic; in less than a month after the appeal was 
made, troops under General John Stark reached Ben¬ 
nington, ready to join the state troops. The leader 
had been a colonel at Bunker Hill, and he had 
served with Washington at Trenton and Princeton, so 
the country had great confidence in him. 

By this time Burgoyne had reached the Hudson 
River. His progress had been slow, because of hin¬ 
drances which Americans were able to throw in his 
way, even if they were not strong enough to attack him. 
The delay made necessary fresh supplies for his army. 
Learning that stores had been gathered at Bennington, 
for the use of General Schuyler’s army, he sent a detach¬ 
ment with instructions to seize them. 

On August 14, when Baum, the leader, was six miles 
from Bennington, he captured a quantity of wheat and 
flour. Then he wrote to Burgoyne that about eighteen 


278 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 



hundred militia were near, on his front, but that they 
would leave at his approach. 

The prophecy was not fulfilled in the way Baum ex¬ 
pected; it has been said that the militia “did leave, 
but took Baum’s whole army along with them.” 

After intrenching his troops, Baum waited for the 
attack. On August 16 it came; General Stark suc- 


The Battle of Bennington, Vermont 

ceeded in defeating the force, either killing or taking 
prisoner the entire party. A second battle was fought 
with a leader who came up with reenforcements for 
Baum. This force, too, was defeated by General Stark. 

The double victory was most important, for it was the 
first check, and a needed check, to Burgoyne in his 
march from Canada. And this victory was won by 






MONUMENT AT BENNINGTON, VERMONT 279 


undisciplined militia, who had to fight veteran troops, 
intrenched, and with cannon for use against those who 
attacked them. 

Four days after the battle, Burgoyne wrote to Lon¬ 
don, “Had I succeeded, I should have effected a junc¬ 
tion with St. Leger, and been now before Albany.” 

The news of the victory brought joy to the discour¬ 
aged patriots. Enlistments were increased, and it 
proved possible to proceed 
against Burgoyne with such 
diligence that the man who 
tried to cut off New Eng¬ 
land from the other colonies 
was compelled to surrender 
at Saratoga. The victory 
at Saratoga led France to 
ally herself with the strug¬ 
gling colonies. 

A speaker in Congress, 
when appealing for an ap¬ 
propriation for a monu¬ 
ment of the decisive battle, 

. Battle Monument, Bennington, 

“To the Bennington Vermont 

battle, one of the most brilliant in the annals of the 
War of the Revolution, must be, therefore, largely 
accorded the achievement of the independence of 
America.” 

The monument, erected by a grateful country, was 
dedicated August 19, 1890, in Monument Park, which 





28o 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


is elevated above the valley nearly three hundred feet. 
The shaft is 37 feet square at the base, and 306 feet 
high. Its graceful lines make it a pleasing feature of 
the landscape. In the interior is suspended a curious 
camp-kettle, which was captured at the surrender of 
Burgoyne at Saratoga, October 17, 1777. Because it 
is said to have been taken at the General's head¬ 
quarters, it has been inscribed, “General Burgoyne’s 
Camp-Kettle." It is in the form of a church bell, in¬ 
verted, and it will hold about a barrel. 

The celebration of the dedication of the monument 
also commemorated the centennial of Vermont’s ad¬ 
mission to the Union. Before the Revolution, the ter¬ 
ritory now contained in the state had been known as 
the New Hampshire Grants. The settlers had lived 
in land secured from New Hampshire; their titles were 
known as “grants." New York claimed the territory 
including these grants, because of the action of the 
king of England in July, 1764, in moving the north¬ 
eastern boundary of that colony to the west bank of the 
Connecticut River. But the settlers resisted what 
they thought injustice. This resistance began in Ben¬ 
nington, in July, 1771, when a sheriff from New York 
tried to take possession of a farm near the town. The 
sheriff found deputies ready to oppose him, the leader 
being Ethan Allen. From that day Allen was looked 
to as a leader in the fight, and his “Green Mountain 
Boys " became noted. 

In 1776, a convention of delegates from all of the 
Grants decided “to take suitable measures, as soon as 


ON THE BATTLEFIELD OF GERMANTOWN 281 


may be, to declare the New Hampshire Grants a sepa¬ 
rate district.” A later convention, on January 15, 1777, 
adopted a resolution which declared : 

“That the district of territory comprehending and 
widely known by the name and description of the New 
Hampshire Grants, of right ought to be, and is hereby 
declared from henceforth to be considered as a free 
and independent Jurisdiction or State, by the name of 
New Connecticut.” Two months later the name was 
changed to Vermont. Vermont continued independ¬ 
ent for fourteen years. Then it became a part of the 
Union. 


76. On the Battlefield of Germantown 

Samuel Chew was attorney-general of Pennsylvania, 
before the days of the Revolution. Like many other 
Philadelphians, he had a country house as well as a 
town house. His country place he built in German¬ 
town, the straggling village five miles from Philadel¬ 
phia, the town of William Penn. He called the place 
Cliveden. 

During the days of the Continental Congress Judge 
Chew seemed to sympathize with the colonists in their 
protests against the injustice of Great Britain, but 
when independence was proposed, he let it be known 
that he was unwilling to act with the patriots. Accord¬ 
ingly he was arrested by order of Congress, together 
with John Penn, and when he refused to sign a parole, 
he was banished from the state. 

During his absence the battle of Germantown was 


282 WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 

fought. On October 3, 1777, the British forces were 
disposed on nearly all sides of the Chew mansion. 
Washington planned to attack these scattered forces 
with four columns, which were to advance from as many 
directions. General Wayne’s column successfully 
opened the attack at daybreak, October 4, driving be¬ 
fore him the enemy en¬ 
countered at Mount Airy. 
The British Colonel Mus- 
grave checked the retreat 
of the soldiers at Cliveden. 
He took possession of the 
mansion with six com¬ 
panies, prepared to defend 
themselves behind hastily 
barricaded doors and win¬ 
dows. Wayne and the 
leaders who were with him 

The Old Pump at Cliveden, Phila- hed Qn t the h 

Delphi a, Pennsylvania 1 . 1 ' 

following in the pursuit of 
that portion of the enemy which had continued its 
retreat; he did not know that he was leaving an 
enemy in his rear. When Washington came to Clive¬ 
den, he was surprised by the fire of the intrenched 
enemy. After a hasty conference with others, it was 
decided not to pass on, leaving a fortress behind. 
Cannon were planted so as to command the door, 
but they were fired without much effect. 

The next attempt was made by a young Frenchman 
who asked others to carry hay from the barn and set 







ON THE BATTLEFIELD OF GERMANTOWN 283 

fire to the front door. Thinking they were doing as 
he asked, he forced open a window and climbed on the 
sill. From this position he was driven back, and he 
found that he had not been supported by those on 
whom he had counted. 

In the meantime the artillery fire continued, but 
with little effect. General Wilkinson, who was pres¬ 
ent, afterward wrote: 

“The doors and shutters of the lower windows of the ' 
mansion were shut and fastened, the fire of the enemy 
being delivered from the iron gratings of the cellars 
and the windows above; and it was closely beset on all 
sides with small-arms and artillery, as is manifest from 
the . . . traces still visible from musket-ball and 
grapeshot on the interior walls and ceilings, which ap¬ 
pear to have entered through the doors and windows 
in every direction; marks of cannon-ball are also visi¬ 
ble in several places on the exterior of the wall and 
through the roof, though one ball only appears to have 
penetrated below the roof, and that by a window in the 
passage of the second story. The artillery seem to 
have made no impression on the walls of the house, 

. . . except from one stroke in the rear, which started 
the wall.” 

In a few minutes Washington, realizing that precious 
time was being lost in the attack on the thick walls of 
the house, ordered a regiment to remain behind to 
watch Cliveden, while his main force hastened on. 

It has been claimed that this brief delay was re¬ 
sponsible for the defeat at Germantown. Wilkinson, 


284 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


on the contrary, insists that the delay saved Washing¬ 
ton’s army from total destruction, since he would other¬ 
wise have hurried on in the thick fog until he was in 
contact with the main body of the British army. The 
result, Wilkinson thinks, would have been a far greater 
disaster than actually overtook the American army 
that day. 

The damage done to the house was so great that five 
carpenters were busy for months making repairs. 
Evidently Judge Chew was not satisfied with the re¬ 
sult, for in 1779 he sold Cliveden for $9000, only to 
buy it back again in 1787 for $25,000. 

77 . With Washington at Valley Forge 

One day in December, 1777, George Washington 
thanked his officers and men for the patience and for¬ 
titude shown during the arduous campaign of the year 
about to close, and told them how necessary it would be 
that they be patient and courageous while in the win¬ 
ter quarters to which they were about to go. He told 
them plainly what hardships they might expect. He 
assured them that he wished he could provide better 
things for them, and asked them to remember that he 
would share their sufferings with them. 

A few days later began the historic march to Valley 
Forge, of which George Washington Parke Custis 
told: 

“The winter of 1777 set in early, and with unusual 
severity. The military operations of both armies had 
ceased, when a detachment of the Southern troops 



WITH WASHINGTON AT VALLEY FORGE 285 

were seen plodding their weary way to winter quarters 
at Valley Forge. The appearance of the horse-guard 
announced the approach of the Commander in Chief; 
the officer commanding the detachment, choosing the 
most favorable ground, paraded his men to pay to 
their general the honors of the passing salute. As 
Washington rode slowly up, he was observed to be eye- 


Washington’s Headquarters at Valley Forge, Pennsylvania 

ing very earnestly something that attracted his atten¬ 
tion on the frozen surface of the road. Having returned 
the salute . . . the Chief reined up his charger, and 
ordering the commanding officer of the detachment to 
his side, addressed him as follows: ‘ How comes it, sir, 
that I have tracked the march of your troops by the 
blood stains of their feet upon the frozen ground? 
Were there no shoes in the commissary’s stores, that 




286 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


this sad spectacle is to be seen along the public high¬ 
ways?’ The officer replied: ‘Your Excellency may 
rest assured that this sight is as painful to my feelings 
as it can be to yours; but there is no remedy within 
our reach. When the shoes were issued, the different 
regiments were served, and the stores became ex¬ 
hausted before we could obtain even the smallest sup- 
ply.’” 

And so the country’s defenders found their way to 
Valley Forge, as the site of the winter camp was called 
by an officer when the plans were first announced. 

On December 18, the day before the place was oc¬ 
cupied, Washington told off the soldiers into groups of 
twelve, and informed each group that it was to build 
a hut of logs. A reward was promised to the twelve 
men of each regiment who should first complete their 
hut, and in the most workmanlike manner. One hun¬ 
dred dollars was offered for the best suggestion of an 
effective substitute for a roof which would be cheaper 
than boards, and which could be applied more promptly. 

Thomas Paine, in a letter to Benjamin Franklin, 
gave a vivid picture of the scene during the days when 
the men became builders : 

‘ k I was there when the army first began to build 
huts. They appeared to me like a family of beavers. 
Every one busy, some carrying logs, others mud, and 
the rest plastering them together. The whole was 
raised in a few days, and it is a curious collection of 
buildings in the true rustic order.” 

Like a good comrade, Washington lived with his 


WITH WASHINGTON AT VALLEY FORGE 287 

men until they had the shelters ready. Not until 
Christmas Day did he move to the house of Isaac 
Potts, the miller. 

Several days earlier, Washington sent to Congress a 
letter from General Varnum, who said: 

“ Three days successively we have been destitute of 
bread. Two days we have been entirely without 
meat.” 

On December 23, Washington said that unless there 
was a great and sudden change in the commissary de¬ 
partment, the army must certainly be reduced to one 
or other of these three procedures: to starve, to dis¬ 
solve, or to disperse in order to obtain provisions in 
the best manner they could. 

On March 1, 1778, General Weedon indicated in his 
orderly book that conditions were improving: 

“ Thank Heaven, our country abounds with pro¬ 
visions, and with prudent management we need not 
apprehend want for any length of time. Defects in 
the commissary department, . . . weather and other 
temporary impediments, have subjected and may 
again subject us to deficiency for a few days. But 
soldiers, American soldiers, will despise the manners 
of repining at such trifling strokes of adversity, 
trifling indeed when compared with the . . . prize 
which will undoubtedly crown their patience and perse¬ 
verance.” 

A conspicuous feature of the Valley Forge Park, main¬ 
tained by the state of Pennsylvania, is an arch, erected 
by the United States Government to the memory of 


288 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


the officers and private soldiers of the Continental 
Army. This was dedicated in 1914* Inside the arch 
is the inscription: 

And here, in this place of sacrifice, in this vale of humiliation, 
in the valley of the shadow of that death out of which the life 
of America rose regenerate and free, let us believe with an abid¬ 
ing faith that to them Union will seem as dear and liberty as 
sweet and progress as glorious as th^y were to our fathers, and 
are to you and me, and that the institutions which have made 
us happy, preserved by the virtue of our children, shall bless 
the remotest generation of the time to come. 

78 . Old Tennent Church, Freehold, New Jersey 

One of the bas-reliefs on the monument commemo¬ 
rating the decisive Battle of Monmouth, which has been 
called the turning-point of the War for Independence, 
represents the famous Molly Pitcher as she took the 
place at the gun of her disabled husband. In the back¬ 
ground of the relief is the roof and steeple of Old Ten¬ 
nent, the church near which the battle raged all day 
long. 

Tennent Presbyterian Church was organized about 
1692. The first building was probably of logs. The 
second, more ambitious, was planned in 1730. Twenty 
years later a third was demanded by the growing con¬ 
gregation. This building, which was twenty-seven 
years old at the time of the Battle of Monmouth, is 
still standing. 

The plan called for a structure sixty feet long and 
forty feet wide. A pastor of the church says: 

“The sides were sheathed with long cedar shingles, 



OLD TENNENT CHURCH, FREEHOLD 289 

and fastened with nails patiently wrought out on an 
anvil, and the interior was finished with beaded and 
panelled Jersey pine. . . . The pulpit ... is placed 
on the north side of the room, against the wall, with 


Old Tennent Church, Freehold, New Jersey 

narrow stairs leading up to it, closed in with a door. 
The Bible desk is nine feet above the audience floor, 
with a great sounding-board overhanging the whole. 
. . . Below the main pulpit a second desk or sub-pulpit 
is built. . . . The galleries extend along three sides of 
the room.” 

The year after the death of Mr. Tennent, on Sunday, 
June 28, 1778, General Washington, at the head of 
about six thousand men, hurried by Old Tennent 
Church. 








290 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


That morning he had been at Englishtown, where 
the sound of cannon told him his advance forces 
under General Lee were battling with the British. 
Washington was about one hundred yards beyond the 
church door when he met the first straggler who told 
him that Lee had given way before the British. A little 
farther on the Commander in Chief met Lee. After 
rebuking him sharply he hastened forward, and rallied 
the retreating Continentals. 

The renewed battle continued until evening, when 
the British were driven back to a defensive position. 
During the night they retired, to the surprise of Wash¬ 
ington, who hoped to renew the battle in the morning. 
The victory snatched from defeat in this, one of the 
most stubbornly contested and longest battles of the 
war, gave new courage to the colonies. 

During the battle wounded soldiers were carried to 
the church, where members of the congregation tended 
them, in what could not have been a very secure refuge, 
since musket balls pierced the walls. An exhausted 
American soldier, while trying to make his way to the 
building, sat for rest on the grave of Sarah Mattison. 
While he was there, a cannon ball wounded him and 
broke off a piece of the headstone. He was carried 
into the church and laid on one of the pews. The stains 
of blood are still to be seen on the board seat, while the 
marks of his hands were visible on the book-rest of the 
pew until the wood was grained. 

A tablet has been placed on the front wall of the 
church With this message: 


THE MASSACRE OF WYOMING VALLEY 291 
1778-1901 

In Grateful Remembrance 
Of Patriots Who, on Sabbath, June 28, 1778 
Gained the Victory Which Was the Turning Point 
Of the War for Independence 
And to Mark a Memorable Spot on 
The Battlefield of Monmouth, 

This Tablet is placed by Monmouth Chapter 
Daughters of the American Revolution 
September 26, 1901 

Not far from the church may be seen the monument 
commemorating the battle itself. Spirited bronze re¬ 
liefs on this monument tell the story of some of the 
most picturesque and dramatic incidents of the memo¬ 
rable struggle. 

79 . The Massacre "of Wyoming Valley, 
Pennsylvania 

In the anthracite region of Pennsylvania, near Wilkes- 
barre, is the beautiful Wyoming Valley, in which set¬ 
tlers from Connecticut and from Pennsylvania made 
their homes during the years immediately preceding 
the Revolution. 

There was bitter rivalry, for both colonies claimed 
the valley. Connecticut said that her charter gave 
her all lands west of her present territory. The set¬ 
tlers from Connecticut secured bills from the Indians. 
The proprietors of Pennsylvania said the land was 
theirs, not only by charter but by purchase from the 
Six Nations. 


292 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


Fortifications were built by both parties to the dis¬ 
pute, and their disagreements were not settled until 
what was called the Pennamite War was ended in 1782. 
Then Congress decided that the territory belonged to 
Pennsylvania. 

But more severe trouble than a state war threatened 
the settlers from both colonies; it was the time of the 

Revolution, and many of 
the Indians had taken sides 
with the British. Differ¬ 
ences were forgotten then, 
as these people who lived 
on the frontier thought of 
their common danger. 

The valley’s time of 
sorrow came in June, 1778, 
when four hundred Tories 
and seven hundred Indians 
advanced upon Forty Fort, 
where some four hundred 
men and boys gathered to 
resist them. The fort was 
held until July 3, by what 

The Wyoming Massacre Mono- hag been called one of the 
ment, Near Wilkesbarre, Penn¬ 
sylvania most gallant defenses in 

American history. 

But that day it became necessary to meet the enemy 
in the open. The settlers were defeated, and the fort 
was surrendered. 

Good treatment was promised. But the British 







THE MASSACRE OF WYOMING VALLEY 293 


were not able to restrain the Indians, who began a mas¬ 
sacre from which few but women and children escaped. 

These fled in terror, with scant provisions, over the 
Pocono Mountains, to Stroudsburg. Of the awful 
journey an early historian has written : 

“What a picture for a pencil! Every pathway 
through the wilderness thronged with women and chil¬ 
dren, old men and boys. The able men of middle life 
and activity were either away in the general service or 
had fallen. There were few who were not in the en¬ 
gagement ; so that in one drove of fugitives consisting 
of one hundred persons there was only one man. Let 
the painter stand on some eminence commanding a 
view at once of the valley and the mountain. Let him 
paint the throng climbing the heights, hurrying on, 
filled with terror, despair, and sorrow. Take a single 
group: the affrighted mother, whose husband has 
fallen, an infant in her bosom; a child by the hand; 
an aged parent slowly climbing the rugged way, be¬ 
hind her; hunger presses them sorely ; in the rustling 
of every leaf they hear the approaching savage; the 
Shades of Death before them; the valley all in flames 
behind them, the cottages, the barns, the harvests, 
all swept in the flood of ruin; the star of hope quenched 
in the blood shower of savage vengeance.” 

A monument at Wyoming tells of the battle, in 
which, so the inscription says, 

A small band of patriot Americans, chiefly the undisci¬ 
plined, the youthful, and the aged, spared by inefficiency from 
distant ranks of the Republic, led by Colonel Zebulon Butler, 


294 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


and Colonel Matthew Denison, with a courage that deserved 
success, boldly met and bravely fought a combined British and 
Indian force. 

80 . The Wallace House, Bound Brook, 

New Jersey 

In the latter part of the seventeenth century a body 
of hardy Dutch and Scotch pioneers settled in the valley 
of the Raritan River, in what is now the state of New 
Jersey. They reared their children in the principles of 
liberty and freedom and justice. 

About the time the War of Independence broke out, 
in the section of the valley now known as Somerville, 
William Wallace, son of John Wallace, a well-known 
Philadelphia merchant of Scotch ancestry, built on 
the land left him by his father “a spacious mansion.” 
It is said to have been the handsomest house in that 
part of the country, and while it is no mean residence 
today, must have seemed almost palatial to the people 
of Revolutionary days. 

In the winter of 1778-79 the house was new, in 
fact not entirely finished, and it must have been won¬ 
derfully attractive when Washington and his family 
came to live in it during those troublous months. It 
is thought that rooms were fitted up expressly for their 
use. 

Among the records in the office of the Secretary of 
State at Washington is a paper containing answers to 
six questions which were submitted by a spy. In an¬ 
swer to the first, “Where is Mr. Washington?” was 



THE WALLACE HOUSE, BOUND BROOK 295 

written, “General Washington keeps Headquarters 
at Mrs. Wallis’ house, four miles from Bandbrook” 
(Bound Brook). 

In connection with the formal opening of the Wal¬ 
lace House in 1897 by the Revolutionary Memorial 
Society of New Jersey, the following statements were 


A Revolutionary Interior 

given to explain Washington’s choice of the Bound 
Brook locality as headquarters for his army. 

“The British had two ways of coming to this neigh¬ 
borhood from New Brunswick. One was by the road 
on the easterly side of the Raritan River to Bound 
Brook; the other was by way of Millstone, then called 
Somerset Court House. The road to Millstone left 
what was formerly called the Old York road near the 
Finderne bridge crossing of the Raritan River, and led 










296 WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


southerly along the Millstone River to Somerset Court 
House. Washington had placed his army so that one 
division lay along the Millstone road just south of the 
river, to guard that avenue of approach, and north of 
the river the line of the army stretched from the Fin- 
derne crossing northerly along the edge of the hill 
. . . and swung around easterly to the heights back 
of Bound Brook. A large portion of the army was 
encamped on the Finderne hill, about two miles east of 
Somerville.” 

In 1897, in connection with the formal opening of the 
house, the “old inhabitants” of Somerville still cher¬ 
ished family stories of Washington’s visit. 

An old lady of more than eighty years said that her 
mother had told her of seeing Lady Washington at 
church during that memorable winter. As a child, 
the mother had sat beside Mrs. Washington “on the 
benches which were then used for seats. One day 
when the church was full, Lady Washington beckoned 
her to go and sit on the pulpit steps, which she did.” 

Another old lady remembered that her father had 
gone down to a building called the court-martial house, 
inside the army lines east of Somerville, to a Sunday 
afternoon prayer meeting, and that “ General Washing¬ 
ton came in and took the psalm book and gave out the 
hymns.” 

The Wallace House is still in fairly good condition and 
easily habitable. In construction it bears the marks of 
its time, with its severe doorway, half doors with iron 
bolts and hinges, straight, wide hallway extending 


WASHINGTON’S HEADQUARTERS, MORRISTOWN 297 

through the lower part of the house, and right-angled 
stairway. It has been taken in charge by the Daugh¬ 
ters of the American Revolution, and contains many 
interesting relics which are open to public inspection. 

81. Washington's Headquarters at Morristown, 
New Jersey 

The winter of 1779-80 was, for Washington, in marked 
contrast to that of 1777-78. The earlier period was 
the awful winter at Valley Forge. But in the later 
winter he lived in the comfortable Ford Mansion at 
Morristown, New Jersey. His “family,” as Washing¬ 
ton was fond of calling Mrs. Washington, was with 
him there. 

During these months he was busily engaged in mak¬ 
ing plans for the conduct of the war, yet he took time 
for those social relaxations which were a needed relief 
from the anxious strain of the long conflict. 

Surgeon-General John Cochrane and Mrs. Cochrane 
occupied the Campfield house close by, and General 
and Mrs. Philip Schuyler had come down from Al¬ 
bany for a season at headquarters. Mrs. Schuyler and 
Mrs. Cochrane were sisters. Elizabeth Schuyler had 
come in advance of her parents, and for a time was a 
guest at the Campfield house. 

Visitors from France were arriving from time to 
time, bringing word of the alliance that was to mean 
so much to the colonies, and conferring as to methods 
of cooperation. 

In one wing of the Ford Mansion lived Mrs. Ford 



An Interior, Washington’s Headquarters, Morristown, New Jersey 



Washington’s Headquarters, Morristown, New Jersey 


298 












WASHINGTON’S HEADQUARTERS, MORRISTOWN 299 

and her son Timothy. In the rooms set apart for 
the use of Washington’s family eighteen people were 
crowded. Two of these were Alexander Hamilton 
and Tench Tilghman, both members of the General’s 
staff. 

Though Mrs. Washington delighted in style, on occa¬ 
sion she could also be plain and simple. There had 
been times during the war when she had driven to 
headquarters in a coach-and-four. But at Morristown 
she was in a different mood. For instance, one day 
when a number of the ladies of the neighborhood, 
dressed in their best, called to pay their respects to her, 
to their surprise they found her sitting in a speckled 
apron, knitting stockings. 

The coming of Elizabeth Schuyler to the Campfield 
house was the signal for a spirited contest for her favor 
between two of Washington’s aides. Both Hamilton 
and Tilghman had met her at her father’s house in 
Albany, and both called on her. But Hamilton soon 
distanced his comrade in the race. It was not long 
before everybody was watching developments. Both 
of the young people were favorites. It is related that 
even a young soldier on sentry duty late one night was 
persuaded to a breach of military rules by his interest 
in Hamilton’s courtship. That night the lover was 
on his way home after spending an evening with his 
Betsey. Evidently he had been thinking of anything 
but the countersign, for when he was halted and asked 
to give the words, he cudgeled his brain in vain. Then 
he whispered to the sentry, “Tell me!” And the 


3 °° 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


sentry did tell. Whereupon Hamilton drew himself 
up before the soldier, gravely gave the countersign, and 
passed on to his quarters. 

There was no time for long courtships in those days 
of quick movements in military circles. The young 
people were married at the Schuyler homestead in 
Albany on December 14, 1780. 

Today the Ford Mansion, where Hamilton dreamed 
of a conquest in which the British had no part, is owned 
by the Washington Association of New Jersey, and is 
open to visitors. The Campfield house is to be found 
on a side street; it has been moved from its original 
site. 

82. The Massacre at Gnadenhiitten, Ohio 

Long before home-seekers came to what is now Tus¬ 
carawas County, in eastern Ohio, a few Moravian mis¬ 
sionaries and their families settled there among the 
Indians. They founded three villages, Shoenbrun, 
Gnadenhiitten, and Salem, where they were surrounded 
by peaceable Christian Indians. 

The location was difficult for those who wished to 
remain at peace, for the villages were about halfway 
between the white settlements on the Ohio, and the 
Wyandots and Delawares on the Sandusky — Indians 
who were always on the lookout for trouble. Having 
made an alliance with Great Britain during the Revo¬ 
lution, they made this an excuse to molest the colonists. 

Trouble began in 1781, when an English officer from 
Detroit, accompanied by two Delaware chiefs and 


THE MASSACRE AT GNADENHUTTEN, OHIO 301 

three hundred warriors, visited Gnadenhiitten and 
urged the Christian Indians to move farther west, if 
they valued their lives. But the Indians were not 
willing to go. So force was used, and they were taken 
away, though their corn, potatoes, and other crops 
had not been gathered. They were led to the San¬ 
dusky country, and the 
missionaries were carried 
as prisoners to Detroit. 

That winter proved a 
hard season, because of 
hunger and cold. The In¬ 
dians’ necessities were so 
great that in the spring 
one hundred and fifty of 
them were allowed to re¬ 
turn to the Tuscarawas 
River and gather the corn. 

The returned exiles di¬ 
vided into parties, each of 

... . . Monument to the Massacred In- 

which went to one of the dians, Gnadenhutten, Ohio 

three towns where their 

homes had been. They felt secure, because their ene¬ 
mies had given them permission to return. What 
trouble could they expect ? 

They did not know that the settlers of western 
Pennsylvania, having suffered many cruelties from 
hostile Indians, were even then on the way to their 
villages, prepared to punish those who had injured 
them. For some reason they thought that the 






302 WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 

guilty people were the Indians of the Christian settle¬ 
ments. 

The Indians at Gnadenhiitten were surprised, 
tricked into surrender, and confined in two prison- 
houses. There were ninety in the party. 

We will let David Zeisberger, the leader of the 
Moravian missionaries, tell the story as he recorded 
it in his diary : 

“ The militia, some two hundred in number, as we 
hear, came first to Gnadenhiitten. Our Indians were 
mostly in the cornfields and saw the militia come, but 
no one thought of fleeing, for they suspected no ill. 
The militia came to them and bade them come into 
town and no harm should befall them. They trusted 
and went, but they were all bound, the men being 
put into one house and the women into another. The 
brethren began to sing hymns and spoke words of 
encouragement and consolation one to another, until 
they were all slain. 

“The sisters soon afterwards met the same fate. 
Christina, the Mohican, who spoke English and Ger¬ 
man fluently, fell upon her knees before the colonel 
and begged for life, but got for answer that he could 
not help her. . . . They burned the bodies together 
with the houses, which they set on fire [a day or two 
after the massacre].” 

The invaders then passed off to Shoenbrun, another 
of the Indian towns. Fortunately the Indians there 
had heard of events in Gnadenhiitten, and had escaped. 
Their town was burned, however. 


THE SPRINGFIELD MEETING-HOUSE 


303 


When word of the massacre was carried to the people 
of the East, there was great sorrow and indignation. 
Congress expressed sympathy to the Moravians, and 
encouraged them to go on with their work. This they 
did, though never with much success; it was difficult 
to build on the ruins of their former efforts. 

The coming of the settlers corrupted the Indians, 
and it was proposed to remove them. In 1823 they 
signed a grant to sell their lands, and most of them left 
for the valley of the Thames River, in Canada. 

David Zeisberger died fifteen years before the re¬ 
moval, and was buried at New Goshen, on the 
Tuscarawas. 

At Gnadenhiitten, where a few Moravians still live, 
a monument commemorating the massacre was erected 
in 1872. This monument is located in the center of the 
street of the original town. On the south side is the 
inscription: 

Here » 

Triumphed in Death 
Ninety 

Christian Indians 
March 8, 1782 

83 . The Springfield Meeting-House, New Jersey 

The second building for the First Presbyterian 
Church in Springfield, New Jersey, was finished in 
1761. Seventeen years later it was needed for a mili¬ 
tary station for the colonies. Gladly the congregation 
yielded it. On Sundays they gathered in the garret of 
the manse. This manse was on the one hundred acres 


3 o 4 WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 

of land given to the church in 1751, in consideration of 
“one pint of spring water when demanded on the prem¬ 
ises.” 

The meeting-house soon became the witness of stir¬ 
ring events. The British, under General Knyphausen, 



The Meeting-House at Springfield, New Jersey 


determined to drive Washington and his men from the 
New Jersey hills and to destroy his supplies, marched 
from Elizabethtown on June 23, 1780. There were 




THE SPRINGFIELD MEETING-HOUSE 305 

five thousand men, with fifteen or twenty pieces of 
artillery, in the expedition. A few miles away, near 
Springfield, was a small company of patriots, poorly 
equipped, but prepared to die for their country. 

Warning of the approach of the enemy was given 
to the Continentals from Prospect Hill by the firing of 
the eighteen-pound signal gun and the lighting of a 
tar barrel on a signal pole. 

Instantly the members of the militia dropped their 
scythes, seized their muskets, and hurried to quarters. 
“ There were no feathers in their caps, no gilt buttons 
on their homespun coats, nor flashing bayonets on 
their old fowling pieces,” the pastor of Springfield 
church said in 1880, on the one hundredth anniversary 
of the skirmish that followed, “but there was in their 
hearts the resolute purpose to defend their homes and 
their liberty at the price of their lives.” 

The sturdy farmers joined forces with the regular 
soldiers. For a time the battle was fierce. The enemy 
were soon compelled to retreat, but not before they 
had burned the village, including the church. Chap¬ 
lain James Caldwell was in the hottest of the fight. 
“Seeing the fire of one of the companies slacking for 
want of wadding, he galloped to the Presbyterian 
meeting-house near by, and rushing in, ran from pew 
to pew, filling his arms with hymn books,” wrote 
Headley, in Chaplains and Clergy of the Revolution. 
“Hastening back with them into the battle, he scat¬ 
tered them about in every direction, saying as he 
pitched one here and another there, 'Now put Watts 


3 o6 WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


into them, boys.’ With a laugh and a cheer they pulled 
out the leaves, and ramming home the charge did give 
the British Watts with a wilL ,, 

The story has been told by Bret Harte: 

“. . . Stay one moment; you’ve heard 
Of Caldwell, the parson, who once preached the Word 
Down at Springfield? What, no? Come — that’s bad; why, 
he had 

All the Jerseys aflame! And they gave him the name 
Of the ‘rebel high priest.’ He stuck in their gorge, 

For he loved the Lord God — and he hated King George! 

“Did he preach? did he pray? Think of him as you stand 
By the old church to-day —• think of him and his band 
Of military ploughboys! See the smoke and the heat 
Of that reckless advance, of that straggling retreat l 

“. . . They were left in the lurch 

For the want of more wadding. He ran to the church, 

Broke down the door, stripped the pews, and dashed out in 
the road 

With his arms full of hymn books, and threw down his load 
At their feet! Then above all the shouting and shots 
Rang his voice, ‘Put Watts into ’em ! Boys, give ’em Watts.’ 

“And they did. That is all. Grasses spring, flowers blow 
Pretty much as they did ninety-three years ago. 

You may dig anywhere and you’ll turn up a ball — 

But not always a hero like this — and that’s all.” 

The Battle of Springfield is not named among the 
important battles of the Revolution, but it had a 
special meaning to the people of all that region, for it 
taught them that the enemy, who had been harassing 


AT SARATOGA, NEW YORK 


3 ° 7 ' 

them for months, was not invincible. From that day 
they took fresh courage, and their courage increased 
when they realized that the British would not come 
again to trouble them. 

After the burning of the Springfield church, the 
pastor, Rev. Jacob Vanarsdal, gathered his people in 
the barn of the parsonage. Later the building was 
ceiled and galleries were built. 

For ten years the barn was the home of the congre¬ 
gation, but in 1791 the building was erected which is 
in use today. 

84 . At Saratoga, New York 

It is a mistake to expect to find at Saratoga Springs, 
New York, the site of the famous surrender of General 
Burgoyne that enabled the colonies to go forward with 
fresh strength to the victory awaiting them. 

For Saratoga Springs is modern. The real Saratoga 
of Revolutionary fame, not far away, is now known as 
Schuylerville, and was so named in honor of General 
Schuyler. 

Fame came to Schuylerville long before the days of 
Burgoyne. A military post called Fort Saratoga was 
located there, close to the place where Fish Creek 
flows from Saratoga Lake into the Hudson, and the 
Battenkill empties into the stream from the east. The 
Hudson and the tributary streams were used by the 
Indians in their trapping expeditions as well as in 
their war journeys, and a fortified post was a necessity. 

One dull November day in 1745 the Indians from 


3°8 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


Canada stole upon the little settlement, caught the 
people off their guard, burned the houses, and massa¬ 
cred many of the inhabitants. Among others Captain 
Phil ip Schuyler was killed, when he refused to surrender. 

A later Schuyler, General Philip, nephew of the 
former Philip Schuyler, for a time was leader of the 

army that made prepara¬ 
tions to face Burgoyne. 
When he was asked to give 
way to General Gates, he 
showed a fine spirit; in¬ 
stead of sulking by him¬ 
self, he did everything he 
could to help the new com¬ 
mander. Mrs. Schuyler, 
too, was a patriot; it is 
said that she set fire to the 
wheat in the field, that it 
might not become the prey 
of the British general. 
After the American vic- 
The Saratoga Battle Monument, tory, when General Gates’ 

SCHUYLERVILLE, NEW YORK " c i i mi 

army was in Schuylerville, 
the carpenter attached to the army built a new house 
for General Schuyler, to take the place of the one 
which the British had destroyed. The mansion still 
stands, a monument to the ability of those who built 
it in seventeen days. The spacious dwelling, in its 
pleasing grounds, was visited by Washington, Alexander 
Hamilton, and Lafayette. 




AT SARATOGA, NEW YORK 309 

Another building of note is the Marshall house. 
There, while the Americans were attacking the camp 
of the enemy, shelter was given to Baroness Riedesel, 
whose husband was an officer in the British Army. 

The surrender of the British came only after weeks 
of hard campaigning, when victory seemed to be the 
portion first of one side, then of the other. On Sep¬ 
tember 19, 1777, at Bemis’s Heights, near by, Bur- 
goyne was successful against the left wing of the army 
commanded by Benedict Arnold. 

Burgoyne made a brave effort to free himself from 
a difficult situation; but he was surrounded by foes, 
dismayed by the word that the boats with his 
supplies had been captured, and disappointed by the 
non-arrival of promised aid from the south. On Octo¬ 
ber 7 he gave battle once more. Benedict Arnold cov¬ 
ered himself with glory by leading a successful attack 
against him, without orders. 

A factor in the final result was the coming of General 
John Stark, the hero of the Battle of Bennington, who, 
with his troops from Vermont and New Hampshire, 
fortified, in Burgoyne’s rear, what has since been called 
Stark’s Knob. In this way Burgoyne’s last chance for 
retreat was cut off, and the result was not long delayed. 

On October 17 terms of surrender were agreed upon, 
and Burgoyne’s army yielded to the Americans on a 
flood plain by the river, which is called to this day 
“The Field of the Grounded Arms.” “Within the 
territory of New York there is no more memorable 
spot,” said George William Curtis. 


3 10 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


The monument that commemorates the conflict and 
the surrender is a beautiful shaft, 40 feet square as it 
rises from the ground, and 154 feet high. This is the 
famous monument of the vacant niche: where the 
, figure of Benedict Arnold would have been, but for 
his later act of treason at West Point, there is nothing; 
the niches of the three remaining sides of the monu¬ 
ment are filled by statues of General Gates, General 
Schuyler, and General Morgan. 

85. Washington's Headquarters at Newburgh, 
New York 

On May 9, 1782, during the time of Washington’s 
stay at the Hasbrouck house, Newburgh, New York, 
there came to him tidings of the arrival in New York 
of Sir Guy Carleton, the new British commander, who 
wrote that he desired to tell of the king’s idea of a pos¬ 
sible peace, and of the attitude of the House of Com¬ 
mons. He closed his letter by saying, “If war must 
prevail, I shall endeavor to render its miseries as light 
to the people of this continent as the circumstances 
of such a condition will possibly permit.” 

A day earlier Washington wrote in a postscript to a 
letter to Meschech Weare of New Hampshire: 

“They are meant to amuse this country with a false 
idea of peace, to draw us off from our connection with 
France, and to lull us into a state of security and inac¬ 
tivity, which having taken place, the ministry will be 
left to prosecute the war in other parts of the world 
with greater vigor and effect.” 


WASHINGTON’S HEADQUARTERS, NEWBURGH 311 

That Washington desired to be a simple resident on 
his own estate at Mount Vernon instead of king of 
the new country, was emphasized by a letter written 
on June 15 to Archibald Cary: 

“I can truly say, that the first wish of my soul is to 
return speedily into the bosom of that country which 
gave me birth, and, in the sweet enjoyment of domestic 
happiness and the company of a few friends, to end my 
days in quiet, when I shall be called from this stage.” 



Washington’s Headquarters at Newburgh, New York 


There was joy in the village on the banks of the Hud¬ 
son when, late in 1782, a letter came from Sir Guy 
Carleton announcing that negotiations for a general 
peace had already begun in Paris, and that the King 
had decided to propose the independence of the thir¬ 
teen provinces “in the first instance, instead of making 
it a condition of a general treaty.” 

In the long interval before the receipt of decisive 
word concerning peace, the wisdom of Washington was 




312 


WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


once more tested severely. There was still dissatisfac¬ 
tion among the officers and the men because they had 
not been paid, and because Congress seemed to give no 
heed to their protests. Washington learned that a 
call had been issued for a meeting of officers to be held, 
to consider taking matters into their own hands and 
forcing Congress to act. 

Washington did not hesitate. He asked the officers 
to meet him in the very building in which they had in¬ 
tended to make their plans for revolt. Then he ap¬ 
pealed to their patriotism, urging them not to put a 
stain on their noble service by hasty action. 

When he had gone, the officers acted in a way that 
justified the General’s confidence. Unanimously they 
promised all that had been asked of them, and voted 
to thank Washington for his method of dealing with 
them. 

On March 19,1783, four days after this action, Wash¬ 
ington acknowledged to Congress receipt of word that 
the preliminary articles of peace had been signed on 
November 30, and, on April 19, he ordered the cessation 
of hostilities, in accordance with the proclamation of 
Congress of April n. 

The Hasbrouck house was sold by the family to 
New York State in 1849. For twenty-four years, by 
act of Assembly, the historic quarters were cared for 
by the trustees of the village, and later by the city 
authorities. In May, 1874, trustees appointed by the 
Legislature took over the property and have held it 
ever since, for the benefit of the people. 


AN EYE WITNESS AT YORKTOWN 


3i3 

86. An Eye Witness at Yorktown, Virginia 

The next best thing to being at Yorktown on the day 
Cornwallis surrendered to General Washington is to 
hear the account of one who was there. Fortunately 
the diary of a twenty-one-year-old soldier, Daniel 
Trabue, has been preserved. His story of the events 
preceding the surrender as he saw them is vivid. Spell¬ 
ing and punctuation are given as they were in the 
diary. He begins by speaking of the American bat¬ 
teries : 

“When our men were working at these Batteries the 
Enemy fired on them heavily. They kept a man on 
the watch, and when they saw a match going to their 
Cannon our men would fall down in the Ditch, and you 
could hear the Ball go by. Sometimes it would skip 
along the ground, and bury the men in the Ditch, but 
in general they would not be hurt. I was often in these 
Ditches when they were working at their Batteries. 

“I was there one morning about 10 o’clock and our 
cannons began to roar. Some of the morters were 
throwing their bomb shells, and they would go in a 
blaze, then turn a sommersault and fall down in the 
Fort. The report was as loud when it struck the ground 
as when it came out; the same also, when it bursted, 
the bombs flying in a circle. What rejoicing there 
was with our men and the batteries that were ready to 
begin, and before night the most of the morters and 
small cannon were firing. I think that night they were 
going every minute and sometimes 10 or 15 at the 
same time. 


314 WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 

“The shells were made of pot metal like a jug ^ inch 
thick, without a handle & with a big mouth. They 
were filled with powder, and other combustibles in 
such a manner that the blaze comes out of the mouth, 
and keeps on burning until it gets to the body where the 
powder is, then it bursts and the pieces fly every way, 
& wound and kill whoever it hits. There were so 
many flying and falling in the Fort that we had no 



Moore House, Yorktown, Virginia 
Here the terms for the surrender of Cornwallis were drawn up. 


Doubt but that we were paying them well for their 
mischief to us. . . . 

“Brother William was taken sick and went home. 
. . . One morning Mr. Merryman, an officer in the 
Staff, came to see me and said that they were to fire a 
big and mighty cannon at io o’clock on the bank of 
the River below the Fort, and that we should go down 
and see it. We got on our horses . . . and got to 
the place . . . and it was a sight. . . . 

“A number of officers and soldiers were there, I sup- 




AN EYE WITNESS AT YORKTOWN 


3i5 


pose 2 or 3 hundred besides spectators. There we saw 
a vast number of Drowned horses, I think over a thou¬ 
sand. The enemy had drowned them when the tide 
was down. We ^all thought it was a sin and shame. 
Before they fired they would put wool in their ears, so 
Mr. Merryman & I would do the same. They fired on 
the Fort, and we could see the ball hit and it did make 
an abundance of timber fly. 

“The earth shook dreadfully where we stood. I 
wanted to go, but Mr. Merryman said, 4 Let us see 
another shot fired,’ and we saw the timber and dirt 
fly Dreadfully. It looked as though they would soon 
beat Down the wall at that place. All at once we saw 
a boat with a white flag from the Fort coming Down 
the River to us. 

“The Flag was received by the officer of this place. 
The officer that brought the flag said he had a letter 
for General Washington. The officer that commanded 
sent him with one of our officers to Headquarters. 
This was a mile away, and about the center of our 
Line. As quick as they were gone the cannon fired 
again, and continued to beat Down the Wall. The 
conclusion among us all was that Lord Cornwallis was 
about to surrender. 

“We started back and went through the Field as the 
Enemy had stopped firing. We went a little back of 
our Ditch and there we saw another sight. The Old 
Field was all torn up with balls from the enemy’s can¬ 
non ; it looked as though large bar sheer ploughs had 
been running there, only they would skip in places. 


316 WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 


When we got to our Wagon & tent we told about the 
Flag. 

“They all said they expected it, as they did not see 
how the Enemy could stand so much fire, as we had 
given them. About this time the Flag had reached 
Gen’l Washington, and in a very few minutes the fire 
ceased near headquarters, and continued to cease along 
the line each way. As quick as it could go over the 
River, by orders, it ceased there also; so in about an 
hour all was still and calm, and the storm was over. 
A great many hands make light work.” 

87. Fraunces* Tavern, New York City 

On the morning of December 22, 1783, the people of 
Philadelphia read in the Pennsylvania Packet a message 
from New York City, which was dated November 26, 
1783: 

“Yesterday in the morning the American troops 
marched from Harlem, to the Bowery lanes. They 
remained there until about one o’clock, when the Brit¬ 
ish troops left the fort in the Bowery, and the Amer¬ 
ican troops marched in and took possession of the 
city. After the troops had taken possession of the 
city, the general and governor made their public 
entry in the following manner: — Their Excellencies 
the General and Governor with their suites on horse¬ 
back. — The Lieutenant Governor, and the members 
of the council for the temporary government of the 
southern district, four abreast. — Major General Knox, 
and the officers of the army, eight abreast. — Citizens 



FRAUNCES’ TAVERN, NEW YORK CITY 317 

on horseback, eight abreast. — The Speaker of the As¬ 
sembly and citizens, on foot, eight abreast. 

u Their Excellencies the Governor and Commander in 
Chief were escorted by a body of West Chester light 
horse, under the command of Captain Delavan. The 
procession proceeded down Queen [now Pearl] Street, 
and through the Broad-way to Cape’s Tavern. The 


Fraunces’ Tavern, New York City 

Governor gave a public dinner at Fraunces’ Tavern; 
at which the Commander in Chief and other general 
officers were present.” 

The building in which Washington dined that day 
was erected by Etienne de Lancey, in 1719. Samuel 
Fraunces purchased the place in 1762. As the Queen’s 
Head Tavern it became one of the most popular pub- 



318 WHERE OUR HISTORY WAS MADE 

lie houses in New York. Among its patrons were 
some of the leaders in the Revolution, as well as many 
who were loyal to King George. Fraunces himself 
never wavered in his allegiance to the colonies. 

One of the clubs that met regularly at the tavern 
was the Social Club, of which John Jay, Gouverneur 
Morris, and Robert R. Livingstone were members. 
In December, 1775, the club came to an end, as its 
members, some of whom were loyalists, and the rest 
patriots, could no longer come together as friends. 

In June, 1776, Phoebe, the daughter of Fraunces, 
was housekeeper for Washington at his headquarters 
at Richmond Hill. Her lover, a British deserter, re¬ 
vealed to her a plot to kill the Commander in Chief and 
General Putnam, set the city on fire, and blow up the 
magazine. Washington was informed, the conspirators 
were caught and punished, and the plot which, if 
carried out, “would have made America tremble,” 
came to nothing. 

On December 4, 1783, ten days after Washington’s 
triumphal entry into the city, in the Long Room at 
Fraunces’ Tavern, the Commander in Chief said fare¬ 
well to his officers. Thackeray describes that touching 
scene as follows: 

“ The last soldier had quitted the soil of the Repub¬ 
lic, and the Commander in Chief proposed to leave 
New York for Annapolis, where Congress was sitting, 
and there resign his commission. About noon on the 
4th day of December, a barge was in waiting at White¬ 
hall Ferry to convey him across the Hudson. The 


FRAUNCES’ TAVERN, NEW YORK CITY 319 

chiefs of the Army assembled at a tavern near the ferry , 
and there the General joined them. 

“Seldom as he showed his emotion outwardly, on 
this day he could not disguise it. He filled a glass of 
wine and said, ‘ I bid you farewell with a heart full of 
love and gratitude and wish your latter days may be 
as prosperous and happy as those past have been 
glorious and honorable.’ Then he drank to them. 

‘ I cannot come to each of you to take my leave,’ he 
said, ‘but shall be obliged if each of you will come and 
shake me by the hand.’ 

“General Knox, who was nearest, came forward, 
and the Chief, with tears in his eyes embraced him. 
The others came one by one to him, and took their leave 
without a word. A line of infantry was formed from 
the Tavern to the Ferry, and the General, with his 
officers following him, walked silently to the water. 
He stood up in the barge, taking off his hat and waving 
a farewell. And his comrades remained bareheaded 
on the shore until their leader’s boat was out of view.” 

Two years later Fraunces sold the tavern, but it 
retains his name to this day. It is still at the corner 
of Broad and Pearl Streets. Many changes have been 
made in the building, under the direction of the Sons of 
the Revolution, who bought it in 1904, and it will con¬ 
tinue to attract visitors as long as it stands. 


INDEX 


Abercorn (ab'er-korn), 105 
Acchawmake, 32 

Accomac (a,k'6-mak), Virginia, 32 
Acoma Pueblo (a-ko'ma pwa'bld), 
New Mexico, 16 
Adamana (a'da-ma'na), 17, 18 
Adams, Abigail, 230; John, 83, 91, 
222, 230; Samuel, 61, 111, 246, 
262 

Alabama, 106-109, 155-159 
Alamance, battle of the, 93 
Albuquerque (al'bu-kur'ke), New 
Mexico, 15 

Alden, John, 45, 46; Priscilla, 45, 46 
Allen, Ethan, 124, 125, 280 
Amboy, New Jersey, 84, 85 
“America,” first sung, 55 
Aquidneck (a-kwid'nek), 65 
Arizona, 10, 11, 14, 17 
Arnold, Benedict, 68, 124, 255, 

309, 310 

Arriola, Don Andres d’ (ar'rf-6'la, 
don an-dras'), 115 

Aubrey, Captain Charles Philip, 

147, 153; William, 192 
Augusta Court House, Virginia, 92 
Avellano, Felipe de (a'v§l-ya'n5, 

fa-le'pe da), 22 

Bacon’s Rebellion, 31, 33 
Baltimore, Lord, 88, 89 
Baptist church in America, first, 64 
Barrancas (bar-ran'kas), 117 
Barton, Major William, 66 
Baum, Colonel, 277 
Beacon Hill, Boston, 53, 56 
Belle Riviere (bel re-vyar'), La, 146 
Bemis’s Heights, battle of, 309 
Bennington, battle of, 277-281 
Berkeley, Governor, of Virginia, 3 
Bernard, Francis, 60; John, 61 
Berrien (ber'i-en), John, 272 
Bethabara (bSth-ab'a-ra), 93 
Bethania (b&th-a'm-a), 93 
Bethlehem, Pennsylvania, 91 
Bienville, de (de byaN'vel') 107, 

148, 152, 156 

Bill of Rights, Virginia’s, 218 
Biloxi, Mississippi, 115, 158 
Blackstone, Reverend William, 54 


Blair, Dr. James, 173 
Blockhouse at Fort Pitt, 163; at 
Naaman’s Creek, 72 
Blue Laws of Virginia, 34-37 
Boone, Daniel, 60 
Borden, Joseph, 85 
Boston, Massachusetts, 31, 37, 44, 
49, 53-59, 225-234, 243-252, 259- 
263 

Boston Common, 49, 53-59 
Boston Common, 58 
Boston Evening Post, 57 
Boston Gazette, 226, 244 
Boston Massacre, 228, 229 
Boston Port Bill, 245 
Boston Tea Party, 228, 245, 261 
Botetourt (bot'e-turt), 26 
Boudinot (boo'de-not), Elias, 258 
Bound Brook, New Jersey, 294 
Bouquet (boo'ke'). Colonel, 162 
Braddock, General, 10, 129, 161 
Bradford, Andrew, printer, 80; Gov¬ 
ernor, 42, 44, 48 
Brant, Joseph, 275 
Brewster, Elder, 41, 45 
Brown University, 65 
Bruton (broo'ton) Parish Church, 173 
Buffaloes, 7-10 

Bunker Hill, battle of, 57, 248-252, 
277; Monument Association, 250 
Burgoyne (bflr-goin'). General, 124, 
262, 277-280, 308 
Burnet, William, 78, 127 
Burr, Aaron, 148, 269 
Butler, Colonel Zebulon, 293 

Cabildo (ka-bil'dd), 153 
Cadillac, Antoine de la Mothe 
(ka-de-yak', an-twan' de la mot), 
61, 135; Madame, 137 
Cahokia Mound, Illinois, 1 
Caldwell, Chaplain James, 305 
Cambridge, Massachusetts, 164, 255- 
259 

Campfield House, Morristown, 297 
Canajoharie (kan'a-jo-h&r'e), New 
York, 275 

Canonicus (ka-non'i-kus), 62 
Cape Cod, 48; Canal, 42 
Carillon (kar'Tl-lon), 123 

20 



INDEX 


321 


Carleton, Sir Guy, 124, 310 
Carpenters’ Hall, Philadelphia, 234 
Carracosa (kar-ra-ko'sa), Hon Al- 
phonso, 115 

Carrington, Colonel Edward, 255 
Carroll, Charles, 202-205 
Carver, Governor, of Plymouth, 41 
Cayuga (ka-yoo'ga), 128, 274 
Celeron (sa'ler-oN), 145 
Chaco (cha'ko) Canyon, New Mex¬ 
ico, 11, 13 

Champlain (sham-plan'), Samuel de, 
59, 121, 131 

Chancellor, William, 78 
Chaplains and Clergy of the Revolu¬ 
tion, 305 

Charleston, South Carolina, 102, 212- 
216, 263-266 

Charlestown, Massachusetts, 167, 
246, 248-252 

Chartres (shar'tr’), Fort, 142-145 
Chelly (kel'i), Canyon de, 11 
Cheonderoga (che'on-de-ro'ga), 121 
Cherry Valley, New York, 275 
Chew, Samuel, 281, 284 
Chickasaw Indians, 143, 152 
Chilton, Mary, 38 
Choctaws, 151 

Cibola (se'bo-la), Seven Cities of, 117 
Circle Boundary of Delaware, 71 
Claiborne (kla'born), Governor, 155 
Clark, George Rogers, 147, 148 
Clark, Rev. Jonas, 247 
Clay, Henry, 27 
Cliff dwellers, 10-13 
Clinton, Sir Henry, 213 
Cliveden, Germantown, Pennsyl¬ 
vania, 281 

Cochrane (kok'rdn), General John, 
297 

Cohasset (ko-has'et), 44 
Coke, Sir Edward, 62 
Cole’s Hill, Plymouth, 40 
Colorado, cliff dwellings in, 10 
Concord, Massachusetts, 57; battle 
of, 241, 247 
Conde (koN-da/), 158 
Conestogoe, 80 

Congress, Continental, 181, 194, 205, 
219, 230, 236, 241 
Connecticut, 168-173, 291 
Constitutional Convention, 243 
Copley, John Singleton, 208 
Cornwallis, General, 91, 176, 270, 
313-316 

Coronado, Vasquez de (k5'r6-na'th5, 
vas'keth de), 15, 117 
Coweta (kow-e'ta), 106-109 
Craigie House, Cambridge, 255-259 
Creek Indians, 108, 116 


Crown Point, New York, 121-125, 
243 

Cunningham, Ann Pamela, 220 
Curtis, George William, 309 
Custis, George Washington Parke, 
284 

Cutler, Manasseh, 200 

Declaration of Independence, 71, 111, 
180, 194, 202, 230, 241, 242 
Delaware, 69-74,88-90,189,192-195 
Denison, Colonel Matthew, 294 
De Soto (da so't5), Ferdinand, 114, 
146, 156 

Detroit, 61, 135; River, 136 
Dieskau (des'kau), Baron, 122 
Dinwiddie, Governor, of Virginia, 160 
Dixon, Jeremiah, 90 
Doughoregan (do'hb-re'gan) Manor, 
202-205 

Dover, Delaware, 192-195 
Drake, Sir Francis, 112 
Dummer, Jeremiah, 170 
Dunlap, Samuel, 275 ; William, 272 
Duquesne (ddo-kan'),Fort, 129, 160 
Dutch in Delaware, 69, 70, 89 
Duxbury, Massachusetts, 43, 44-46 

Eagle School, 184-188 
Eastern Shore of Virginia, 31-34 
Eaton, Theophilus, 170 
Ebenezer, Georgia, 102-106 
Eliot, John, 168 

Elizabethtown, New Jersey, 304 
El M.orro (el mb'ro), New Mexico, 23 
Enchanted Mesa, New Mexico, 17 
Epitaphs, strange, 69, 187, 188 
Everett, Edward, 220, 224, 252 

Faneuil (fan'’l), Hall, 225, 261 
Faunce, Elder, 40 
Fewkes, Dr. J. W., 12 
Five Nations, the, 80, 274 
Florida, 110-117, 158 
Forbes, General, 9, 161 
Ford Mansion, Morristown, 297 
Forts: Ascension, 147; Barrancas, 
117; Carillon, 123 ; Chartres, 142; 
Conde, 158; Dayton, 276; Du¬ 
quesne, 160; Frederic, 122; 

Henry, 30; Holmes, 134; Le 
Boeuf, 159 ; Lee, 268 ; Louis, 156 ; 
Marion, 112, 113; Massac, 145; 
Motte, 214 ; Moultrie, 263-266 ; 
Necessity, 10, 161; Niagara, 125, 
138; Oswego, 126; Panmure, 152; 
Pickens, 116; Pitt, 161; Re¬ 

doubt, 117; Rosalie, 148; St. 
John’s, 110; St. Louis, 140; San 
Carlos, 114-117; San Marco, 112; 



322 


INDEX 


Stanwix, 275; Ticonderoga, 121- 
124, 277; Tombecbe, 157; Wash¬ 
ington, 267; William Henry, 123 
Forty Fort, 292 

France, alliance with, 279; glimpses 
of, in America, 110-163 
Franklin, Benjamin, 69, 70, 91, 184, 
195-198, 243, 260, 286 
Fraunces’ Tavern, New York City, 
316 

Frederica (fred'er-e'ka), Georgia, 98 
Freehold, New Jersey, 270, 288 
French and Indian War, 77 

Gage, General, 258 
Gallup (gal'up), New Mexico, 20 
Galvez (gal'vath), Don Bernardo de, 
116, 159 

Gano, Stephen, 65 

Garay, Don Pedro de Brogas y 
(ga-ri', don pa'dro de bro'gas e), 
112 

Garden, Andrew, 185 
Garrison, William Lloyd, 233 
Gates, General, 83, 308 
George II, 78, 95, 181 
George III, 26 
Georgia, 9, 94, 106, 107 
Germantown, battle of, 281-284 
Gerry, Elbridge, 208 
Gist, Christopher, 159 
Glover, Joss, 167 

Gnadenhutten(g’na'den-hoo'ten), 300 
Graeme (gram) Hall, near Phila¬ 
delphia, 79 

Grants, New Hampshire, 280 
Great Meadows, defeat of French at, 
160 

Green Mountain Boys, 124, 280 
Greene, General, 91 
Gregoire, Bartolemy de (gra-gwar', 
bar-tol'£-me de), 61; Maria Ther¬ 
esa, 61 

Griffin , first ship on the Great Lakes, 
132 

Guadelupe Hidalgo (go'da-loop' hi- 
dal'gb), treaty of, 16 
Guilford Court House, North Caro¬ 
lina, 91 

Gunston Hall on the Potomac, 216 
Hale, Nathan, 173 

Hamilton, Alexander, 222, 299, 308: 
Andrew, 199; James, 199; 
William, 199 

Hancock, John, 61, 111, 230, 246 
Harlem Heights, 267 
Harte, Bret, 306 
Hartford, Connecticut, 169 
Harvard, Reverend John, 166 


Harvard University J _164-168 
Hasbrouck (haz'brook) House, New 
York,. 310 

Hennepin (hen'e-pin, Fr. en-paN'), 
picture of Niagara Falls by, 125 
Henrico (hen-rl'ko), 31, 254 
Henry, Patrick, 216, 252-254 
Hereda (g-ra'da), 112 
Herkimer, General Nicholas, 275 
Hiawatha (hi'd-wo'thd), 130 
Hilton, Martha, 210-212 
Hotel de Ville (o-t81' de vel), 155 
Houston, Sam, 24 

Howe, M, A. De Wolfe, 58; General, 
268 

Hulbert, Historic Highways of Amer¬ 
ica, 7 

Iberyille, d’ (de'bgr-vel'), 115 
Illinois, 1, 142-148 
Independence Bell, 240 
Independence Hall, Philadelphia, 73- 
74, 237-243 
Indian Bible, 168 

Indians, at Fort Massac, 147; at 
Maubila, 156; in Western Penn¬ 
sylvania, 162; lands deeded to 
Swedes by, 72; manner of living 
described, 50; massacre of, at 
Forty Fort, 292; massacre of, at 
Gnadenhtitten, 300; of Eastern 
Shore, 33; of New England, 49- 
53; on Illinois River, 139; pueblos 
of, 15; Roger Williams’ conference 
with, 62 

Inscription Rock, New Mexico, 
20—23 

Iroquois (ir'6-kwoi), 121, 125, 128, 
141, 273 

Isleta (es-la'ta), New Mexico, 15 

Jackson, General Andrew, 116, 206 
Jamestown, Virginia, 14, 28-31, 47, 
82 173 

Jasper, William, 266 
Jay, John, 318 

Jefferson, Thomas, 25, 26, 177, 216 
Jennings, Solomon, 75 
Johnson, Captain, 47 ; General Wil¬ 
liam, 122 

Joncaire (zhoN-kar'), Governor, 126 
Jumel (zhii-mel'), Madame, 269; 
Stephen, 269 

Kasimir (kas'i-mer), Fort, 70 
Kaskaskia, Illinois, 142, 145, 146 
Keith, Sir William, 79 
Kentucky, 9, 146 
Killingworth, Connecticut, 168 



INDEX 


323 


Kittanning (ki-tan'Ing) Path, 9 
Knox, General, 316, 318 
Knyphausen (k’mp'hou-z£n), Gen¬ 
eral, 304 

Ko-no-shi-o-ni (ko-nS'shi-d'm), 274 

Lafayette, General, 61, 206, 222, 229, 
250, 308 

Laguna (la-goo'na), pueblo of, New 
Mexico, 16 

Lancey, fitienne de (a-tySn' de), 317 
Lands, bought from Indians, 75, 
109, 128 

La Salle, 1, 106, 132, 139-140 
Laussat (lo'sa), 155 
Law, John, 142 
Le Boeuf (le bfif), Fort, 159 
Lee, General Charles, 264, 290; 

Jeremiah, 205-209; ‘ ‘ Light Horse 
Harry,” 73, 215; Richard Henry, 
216, 241 

Legends, Indian, 25, 130, 273 
Lenni Lenape (len'i len'd-pe), 74 
Lery, Gaspard Chaussegros de (le're, 
gas'par shos'gro de), 127 
Letrado, Padre (la-tra'do, pa-dra), 22 
Lexington, battle of, 241, 246, 247 
Liberator, The, 233 
Liberty Bell, purchase of, 238-240 
Library Company of Philadelphia, 
237 

Livingstone, Robert R., 318 
Longfellow, Henry W., 68, 130, 210, 
212, 247, 259 
Long House, the, 274 
Louis (loo'e) XIV of France, 61 
Louisburg, Nova Scotia, 56 
Louisiana, 107, 152-155 
Luisa (loo-e'sa), 66 
Lujan (loo-han'), 22 
Luna (loo'na), Tristan de, 114 

Mackinac, Island, 132; Straits of, 135 
Madison, James, 159, 176 
Maine, 59-61 

Maldonado (mal'd5-na'th5), 114 
Marblehead, Massachusetts, 205- 
209, 285 

Marion, General, 215 
Markham, Lieutenant Governor, 189 
Marquette (mar-ket'), Father, 1, 
132, 135 

Marshall, Chief Justice John, 177; 

Edward, 75-76 
Maryland, 88-90, 202-205 
Mason, Charles, 90 ; George, 216 
Mason and Dixon’s Line, 87-91, 196 
Massac (mas's&c), Fort, 145-148 
Massachusetts, 37-47, 53-59, 60, 


62, 122, 164 168, 205-209, 225- 
234, 243-252, 255-263, 277 
Massacres, Indian : Wyoming Valley, 
New York, 292; Gnadenhutten, 
Ohio, 300 

Massasoit (m&s'd-soit'), 40, 51 
Maubila, 155 

Mayflower, the, 37, 40, 41, 43 
Menendez de Avilas, Pedro (ma- 
nen'dath da a've-las'), 110, 112 
Mercer, General, 271, 272 
Mermet (mer'ma), Father, 146 
Mesa Encantada (ma'sa an'can- 
ta'da), New Mexico, 17 
Mesa Verde (ma'sa vtird), Colo¬ 
rado, 10, 1£, 13 
Mexico, 16, 117, 120 
Miantonoma (me-an't5-nd'ma), 62 
Michigan, 9, 130-138 
Michilimackinac (mish'i-li-ma k'i- no), 
Michigan, 130-135 
Mississippi, 115, 148-152 
Mississippi Bubble, the, 142 
Missouri, mound-builders in, 9 
Mobile, Alabama, 107, 116, 155-159 
Mohawk Valley, New York, 273-277 
Monacans (mo'nd-kans'), 25 
Monk’s Mound, 2 
Monmouth, battle of, 288 
Monroe, James, 177, 206 
Montcalm, General, 123 
Montezuma (mon'te-zoo'md) Na¬ 
tional Forest, Colorado, 12 
Moore House, Yorktown, Virginia, 
314 

Moqui (m5'ke), 20 
Moravian (mo-ra'vi-dn) mission¬ 
aries, 91-94, 300-303 
Morgan, General, 310 
Morris, Gouverneur, 318; Roger, 
267 

Morris-Jumel House, New York 
City, 267-270 

Morristown, New Jersey, 297 
Morton, Thomas, 50 
Morven, Princeton, New Jersey, 270 
Motte, Rebecca, 212-216 
Moultrie, Colonel, 263-266 
Mound-builders, 1-6, 7, 8, 9 
Moundsville, West Virginia, 4 
Mount Desert, Maine, 59-61 
Mount Vernon, Virginia, 71, 216, 
218-224, 313 

Muerto (mwer'to), Canyon del, 11 
Muscogee (mus-ko'ge), 108 
Musgrave, Colonel, 282 

Naaman’s (na'd-mdn), Creek, Dela¬ 
ware, 71 

Narragansett Bay, 66, 67 



324 


INDEX 


Narvaez, Pamfilio de (nar-vii'&th, 
pam-fel'yd de), 114 
Nassau (nas'o) Hall, Princeton, 
New Jersey, 177, 272 
Nassawattox Indians, 32 
Natchez, Mississippi, 148-152 
National Monuments: Petrified For¬ 
est, Arizona, 17; Inscription Rock, 
New Mexico, 23 
Natural Bridge, Virginia, 23-27 
Nemacolin’s (nem'a-co'lin) Path, 10 
Neshaminy (nesh-am'i-m) River, 74 
New Amstel, 70 
New Amsterdam, 72 
Newburgh, New York, 310 
New Castle, Delaware, 69, 189 
New England Canaan, 50 
New England's First Fruits, 164 
New England, Indians of, 49-53 
New Hampshire, 86, 209-212, 277 
“New Hampshire Grants,” 280 
New Haven, Connecticut, 168-173 
New Jersey, 85, 177-181, 270-273, 
288-291, 294-300, 303-307; Col¬ 
lege of, 177 

New Mexico, 10, 13-17, 20, 117-121 
New Orleans, Louisiana, 107, 147, 
151, 152-155 

Newport, Rhode Island, 66 
New Stockholm, 70 
New York, 8, 31, 121-130, 267-270, 
273-277, 307-312 

New York City, 84, 182, 267, 316; 

journey from, to Philadelphia, 86 
New York Mercury, 83 
Niagara Falls, 125, 132 
Nicolet, Jean (ne'ko-le', zhoN), 131 
Nieto (ne-a'to), Don Francisco, 21 
Norris, Isaac, 240 
Northampton Protest, 32 
North Carolina, 9, 82, 91-94 
Nova Scotia, 60 

Oglethorpe, General James, 95-108 
Ohio, 9, 300-303 
O jib way (o-jit/wa), 130 
Old North Church, Boston, 259 
Old Point Comfort, Virginia, 31, 32 
Old South Meeting-House, Boston, 
61, 228, 259-263 
Old State House, Boston, 229 
Old Stone Mill, Newport, Rhode 
Island, 69 

Onate, Don Juan de (5n-ya'ta, d&n 
hwan da), 20, 23 
Oneidas (o-nl'das), 274 
Onondagas (Sn'on-da'gds), 127, 274 
O’Reilly, Alexander, 153 
Oriskan.y (o-ris'kd-ni), battle of, 276 
Ottawa Indians, 141 


Paducah (pd-du'ka), Kentucky, 146 
Paine, Thomas, 286 
Paper mills in America, first, 80-84 
Parks, William, 82 
Peake, primitive money, 33 
Pemi-Nacha (pem'i-nach'a), 72 
Penn, Guli Springett, 189, 191; 

Hannah Callowhill, 191; John, 

75, 80, 281; Letitia, 189-192; 
Thomas, 75; William, 70, 71, 75, 81, 
88, 189, 237; heirs of William, 74 

Pennamite (pen'a-mlt) War, 292 
Pennsylvania, 10, 71, 74-84, 88-90, 
159-163, 184-192, 195-202, 234- 
243, 281-288, 291; University of, 
184, 199 

Pennsylvania Packet, 316 
Penobscot Bay, 60 

Pensacola, Florida, 114-117, 153, 

156, 158 
Percy, Earl, 57 

Petrified forests, Arizona, 17-20 
Phi Beta Kappa (fl ba'td kap'd), 
177 

Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, 31, 71, 
73, 77, 84, 182, 184, 189, 199-202, 
234-243, 281; journey from New 
York to, 86 

Philadelphia Mercury, 79, 182 
Pierson, Abraham, 168 
Pike, Zebulon M., 119 
Pilgrim Hall, Plymouth, Massa¬ 
chusetts, 38, 39, 41, 47, 49 
Pilgrims, 37-46 
Pitcher, Molly, 288 
Pittsburgh, 9, 159-163 
Plains of Abraham, 60, 109 
Plymouth Colony, 14, 37-44, 47, 48, 
51, 64 

Plymouth Rock, 38-40 

Pocono (po'ko-no) Mountains, 74, 

76, 293 

Ponce de Leon (pon'tha da la-on'), 
110, 114 

Pontiac, 132, 138, 141, 162 
Portsmouth, New Hampshire, 209- 
212 

Pottawatomies (pot'd-wot'd-miz), 141 
Powhatans (pow'ha-tanz'), 25 
Prescott, General, British com¬ 
mander, 66; Dr. Samuel, 247; 
Colonel, 248 
Prideaux, General, 129 
Princeton, New Jersey, 177-181, 270 ; 
battle of, 181, 272; University, 
177 

Printing press, in charge of Stephen 
Daye, 168 

Printz, Governor, of Delaware, 71, 
72 



INDEX 


325 


Providence, Rhode Island, 49, 02-65 
Provincetown, Massachusetts, 41, 
42, 43, 44 

Pueblo Bonito (pweb'lo bd-ne'to), 
Arizona, 11, 13 

Pueblos, in New Mexico, 13; Zuni, 20; 
Moqui, 20 

Punishments, strange, 33, 34, 77 
Puritans, 53 

Putnam, General Israel, 180 
Quebec, 124 

Railroad, early, prophecy as to speed 
of, 86 

Raleigh, Sir Walter, 89 
Randolph, Edmund, 177 
Raritan (rar'i-tan) River, 295 
Reid, George, 71 

Renault, Philippe Francois de (re-no', 
fe-lep' fraN-swa' de), 142 
Revere, Paul, 208, 243-247 
Rhode Island, 62-68, 245; College, 
65 

Richmond, Virginia, 31, 252-255 
Ridgeley House, Dover, Delaware, 
192 

Riedesel (re-da'zel), Baroness, 309 
Rising, Governor John, 72 
Rittenhouse, David, 195-198, 222; 
William, 80 

Roanoke, primitive money, 33 
Robinson, Colonel Thomas, 73 
Rocky Hill House, New Jersey, 272 
Rodney, Caesar, 193 
Roger Morris Park, New York City, 
270 

Ross, George, 71 

Roxas, Don Andres Almonaster y 
(rbx'as, don an-dras' al'mo-nas'- 
tere), 154 

St. Augustine, Florida, 101, 110-114 
St. Croix (kroi) River, 60 
St. Denis, Jucherau de (de-ne', 
zhii-sher-o de), 146 
St. Ignace (lg'nas), 135 
St. John’s Church, Richmond, Vir¬ 
ginia, 252-255 
St. Leger, General, 275, 279 
St. Louis, Missouri, 1 
St. Mary’s, 89 

St. Simon’s Island, Georgia, 98-102 
Sakonnet (sa-kon'et) River, 66, 67 
Sala Capitular (sa'la ca-pit'u-lar), 
155 

Salem, Massachusetts, 62; Ohio, 300 
Salzburgers, 102 
Sandhoec (sand'hoc), 70 
San Domingo, 151 
San Gabriel, 118 


San Juan dc Pinos (san hwan da 
pe'nbs), 112 

Santa Fe, New Mexico, 20, 23, 117- 
121 

Santa Fe trail, 119 
Santa Maria (san'to ma-re'd), 114 
Santa Rosa Island, Florida, 114, 116 
Saratoga, battle of, 279, 307-310 
Sault (soo) Ste. Marie, Michigan, 132 
Savannah, Georgia, 94, 95, 104, 266 
Saybrook, Connecticut, 169 
Schoenbrun (shhn-brdon'), Ohio, 300 
School advertising in Philadelphia, 
182-184 

School life: at Harvard, 164; at 
Princeton, 177; at William and 
Mary, 175; at Yale, 168; before 
the days of public schools, 181; 
early schoolhouse, 185 
Schuyler (ski'ler), Elizabeth, 297, 
299; Philip, 83, 277, 297, 307, 
308, 310 

Scituate (sit'u-at), 44 
Senecas (sen'e-kas), 128, 274 
Serigny, de (sa-re'nye), 115 
Sewall, Judge Samuel, 57, 260 
“Shadwell,” Virginia, 25 
Shawnees, 25 

Shenandoah Valley, Virginia, 27, 92 
Shirley on the James River, 34 
Silk making in Georgia, 105 
Six Nations, the, 121 
Smith, Captain John, 42 
Somerset (sum'er-set) Court House, 
295 

Somerville, New Jersey, 296 
South Carolina, 114, 212-216, 263- 
266 

Spain in America, glimpses of, 110- 
163 

Spangenburg (spang'en-bgrK), Bishop, 
91 

“Spanish Autograph Album,” 23 
Spanish explorers and traders, 20; 

in Florida, 95, 100 
Sparrowhawk, wreck of the, 47-49 
Spinning-bee, 58 

Springfield, New Jersey, 303, 305 
Spruce Tree House, Colorado, 11 
Stage wagon, speed of, 85 
Stamp Act, 205, 226 
Standish, Lorea, 42; Myles, 40-46 
Stanwix, General John, 161 
Stark, General John, 277, 309 
Starved Rock, Illinois, 138-142 
Staunton, 92 

Steuben (stu'bSn), Major General, 
277 

Stiles, Dr., 172 
Stockton, Richard, 270 




326 


INDEX 


Story of Boston, 262 
Strahan, William, 198 
Stuart, Gilbert, 205 
Stuyvesant (sti've-sant), Peter, 70, 
72 

Sullivan Island, 263 
Swedes in Delaware, 70, 71, 89 

Ta-reng-a-wa-gon, 273 
Tennent Church, New Jersey, 288 
Tennessee, 9 
Texas, 24 

Thackeray, description of Washing¬ 
ton’s farewell by, 318 
Ticonderoga (ti'kon-der-6'gd), 121- 
125 277 

Tilghman (til'mdn), Tench, 299 
Tomo-chi-chi (to'mo-che'-che), 97, 
103 

Tonty, Henry, 1, 140-141; Madame, 
137 

Trabue, Daniel, 313 
Trails, Indian, 7, 139; buffalo, 7, 8 
Travel of pioneers, 84-87 
Trent, Captain William, 160 
Trenton, New Jersey, battle of, 270, 
277 

Tryon, Governor, 93 
Tudor, John, 229 

Tuscarawas (tus'ka-ro' was) County, 
Ohio, 300 

Tuskaloosa (tiis'kd-loo'sd), 155 
Twelve-mile circle boundary, Dela¬ 
ware, 71 

Tyler, John, 177 

Ulloa (ool-yo'a), Antonio de, 152 
Utah, cliff dwellings in, 10 
Utrecht (u'trgkt), 128 

Valesca (va'lgs'ka), Luis de, 114 
Valley Forge, Pennsylvania, 192, 205, 
284-288 

Vanarsdel, Reverend Jacob, 307 
Vargas, Diego de (var'gas, de-a'g5 
da), 21, 120 
Varnum, General, 287 
Vassall, John, 255 
Vermont, 277-280 
Verrazzano (ver'rat-sa'no), 65 
Virginia, 24, 26, 28-37, 47, 48, 82, 
89, 173-177, 216-224, 252-255, 

313-316 ; Natural Bridge in, 23 
Virginia Gazette, 82 

Wachovia (wo-cho'vi-d), 92 


Walking Purchase, the, 74 
Wallace, General Lew, 121; William, 
294 

Warren, Joseph, 246, 249 
Washington, George, 10, 24, 71, 73, 
74, 83, 148, 159, 160, 167, 172, 177, 
181, 198, 205, 206, 216, 217, 218- 
224, 228, 232, 256, 262, 265, 267, 
272, 277, 282, 283, 284-288, 289, 
294, 297-300, 304, 308, 310, 313, 
318; Lawrence, 218; Martha, 
220-224, 256, 273, 296, 297 
Wayne, “Mad Anthony,” 74, 138, 
282 

Webster, Daniel, 249, 250, 251 
Webster, Noah, 172 
Weedon, General, 287 
Wentworth, Governor Benning, of 
New Hampshire, 210-211 
West Virginia, 4, 6, 8 
White House, Arizona, 11 
White, Peregrine, cradle of, 39, 41 
Wilkinson, General, 159, 283 
Willcox, Thomas, 81 
William and Mary College, 173-177 
Williams, Roger, 62-64 
Williamsburg, Virginia, 26, 31, 82, 
173-177 

Wills Creek, Pennsylvania, 160 
Winslow, Governor, 64 
Winston-Salem, North Carolina, 91 
Winthrop, Governor John, 54, 168, 
260 

Wisconsin, 9 

Wissahickon (wis'a-hik' on) Creek, 81 
Witchcraft delusion, 260 
Wolfe, General, 60 
“Woodlands, The,” 199-202 
Worthy Women of Our First Century, 
214 

Wren, Sir Christopher, 174 
Wrightstown, Pennsylvania, 74, 76 
Wyandots (wl'an-dots), 300 
Wyoming Valley, Pennsylvania, 291 

Yale, Elihu, 170 
Yale University, 168-173 
Yamaco (yam'd-ko), 89 
Yamacraw (ya'ma-kro), 98 
Yates, James, 75 

Yorktown, Virginia, 31, 91, 313-316 
Yuklwungga (yu'k’l-wiing'gd), 118 

Zeisberger (tsis'bSr-ger), David, 302, 
303 

Zuni (zoo'nye), 20, 22 


23 


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V - 4 





WERT 
bookbinding 

Crantville. Pa. 
July- August 1988 




